The freezing wind rips raw through my skin.
The sand supports my heavy form
And I couldn’t wait to take the plunge.
I feel like a fat bird unable to take flight.
Something disturbs the flock.
I have been stripped, strapped and strung,
I step off the motorway into a castle of white clouds.
The black birds lift out the black bricks in the turrets
Like notes in the perfect score.
Like angles, fairies and cherubs my footsteps are light and bare.
I walked through my mind last Tuesday;
It was black and passionate, an illustration of suicide.
I was shown the ropes - my thick purple nerves -
It’s been done before, I know.
But this time I’m speaking, not you.
An anger has unearthed in an icy core.