Category: Poetry
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All the things that make you
I remember you with fondness, but did not get your name tattooed on my skin, because you don’t deserve that honour. Today I talked to a girl you scorned. You lied to her, abused her and tossed her away. Your behaviour was forgotten in the fog of grief at your death. We also politely ignored
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Hot glass
Little people drink hot glassthinking they are reala sudden tempesthas them clutch at paperafraid of being swept awayleaving only dyingleaves behind
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reasons for a career break
Falling asleep at your desk. Crippling shoulder pain. The tendency to stare into the abyss, coffee cup sagging in hand. Spilling coffee on your keyboard. Getting a green tinge to your skin from fluorescent lighting. Uncontrollable weeping. Sleep-typing. Spilling tea on the kitchen floor. Mopping the tea up with disposable paper towels. Watching your breath
Lisa Rodrigues 