Valediction

The garden of Childhood has locked its gates;

We no longer feel the sun on our skin or play hide-and-seek,

The path out of Eden is a tangled place;

Teen lust swelters in the atmosphere,

The sky breaks out in a sweat and blushes pink.

We play our mischievous games in the moonlight now;

It shiny, round face wobbles on the surface of the water. My mind swims.

Fountains of vodka seem to pour out the ground. I try to cleanse myself; a rebirth into the person I want to become.

Soon the landscape around me, the trees, all move in a sinister ebb and flow…

I close my eyes and count-to-ten.

Your gaze burns me,

If two cities were alight either side of us, I’d never know,

And desire often carries a torch in its tail,

You move your hand to touch mine.

For one night only, I thought you would be thrilling and experimental,

Tender. Now these feelings take me over

I don’t know who I am, what I am, always on the run. I long for simplicity,

These days everything is a moment and a rush of chemicals,

We can’t think about right and wrong, what people will say or whether it’s a phase,

If you stop in your tracks you’ll spot cracks in your face, white dust on your shoes,

Taste salt in your tears.

The teenage mind is a whirlwind,

We’re alone outside. Shhhh! Put your hands on my waist, kiss me, make me feel beautiful,

Colour rides on the night like foam on the sea,

Love is the world through a kaleidoscope, but sometimes we just see red,

Get angry! Read Marx. Join Greenpeace. The earth is colonised by monsters; the political, the mercenary, the violent, the wheedling. Liars and thieves strut in a nightmarish pageant…

The world is a dead weight which I carry on my shoulders,

My hair is matted with blood,

I pull out my crown of thorns and lay it aside,

Whose sins am I dying for?

Theirs? Mine?

This is already a world of wars,

There’s a hole in the sky and the earth blisters under it,

False prophets lurk on every street corner; their white teeth flashing light from billboards,

Consumption,

But for us the end is closer.

Dreams and passions are put to sleep

Now I groan at the calling of deadlines and obligations,

Bills, B&Q and baby-clothes;

The world outside is monochrome, whichever path you choose,

But you never know, perhaps I will rise up perfect? You won’t even recognise me

Until you touch the wounds.