Words turn to black marks

And the waves of emptiness crash into me

I freeze

Numb with emptiness

Anxiety emanates from my fingers

And my face cannot break


A lump in my throat

An ache in my back

Dizzying eyes


I feel sick to my stomach

Too many

Sugar coated bubble gum milk bottles

A pound a bag from the k market

I rub my eyes with my thumb and middle finger

Or to be more precise I put pressure on the eyeballs

My thumb has my right eye

My finger the left eye


Starting at the outer edges of each eye

I draw thumb and finger across the eyes

To meet at the bridge of my nose

The eyes are weary

Tired and sting a little


It’s all the soot


Down from the ceiling

The soot sifts down

And finds all the crevasses




the world is a much quieter place now

I can hear the birds chirp more clearly

every sound

every action

seems magnified

and yet contained

people seem less friendly

not even a smile as I pass by

instead of smiles

looks of disgust

with no real reason as to why

it will soon feel like

the early hours

all day

an extension of the quiet

and the void

just the crows



written Thursday 19th March 2020