R.I.P. by Katie Lewington

I beat myself on you
you don’t need to hold me
I am spilling out, trembling
a hurricane of feverish lust.
I am dying
in the supermarket –
tampons, courgettes
bananas, crisps, coke
eggs and yogurt.
I am dying
in the classroom, quote posters
plaster the walls
8 months later they inspire me no more.
I am dying
I am choosing what to wear, must starve myself, you will buy me a drink,
we will sink in alcohol and I will share your bed.
I am dying
speaking to mother and father
they would rather hear from me
how the job search is faring
I would like to explain how the writing is going –
the rejections don’t hurt me.
I am dying
I arrange a doctor’s appointment,
a survey in the library complete
pondering on where to visit for my next holiday.
I am dying

we are all dying
our time is sinking short
we are entering further into territories that we cannot return from
we can do what we do
we should not hold back

we are dying.

Katie Lewington 2

Katie Lewington likes to review the books she reads, listen to music, daydream, watch Cary Grant films, help The Pithead Chapel journal and Transcending Shadows review and Punks Write Poems Press sift through their submissions, sniff 50 year old poetry tomes and enjoy the aesthetic display of many literary magazines (She has been published in some of these) Contact her through Twitter @idontwearahat and her blog https://katiecreativewriterblog.wordpress.com

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