Creepypasta
Six pasta parcels presented themselves on the plate. Red wine jus dripped from the glass menagerie. Clawing at my knuckles amid chuckles from the table opposite. Peas split and I spat out my fears into the face of the person I love. We celebrated the day in our normal way, me in bed and he on a bicycle. Weaving in dream lanes lacing spokes, an articulated lorry thrust my butterbreath. My hips crumpled on the staircase as I grasped at cakes with eggs on top. A caramel catastrophe caught on camera. Gluteal muscles gnawing.
Twinging all the way to the seaside. Looking out over a wrecked cargo ship full of explosives. Sighing in the mist. We kissed.
Grimacing through the ache, en route to the lobster/love shack. You ate mussels and I cuddled a daiquiri, nursing my nerves. I sat on the shingle and wrote a poem about birth certificates and a review of Belly‘s Christmas 2022 acoustic release. Saccharine sounds soothing in the cool surf. Pirate pups on my lap, saving the day. Along with pastel-coloured stickers and washi tape.
I posted an envelope full of coasters to Wiltshire. Signing, coasters from the coast.
Dear Diary
Thank you for waking me up this morning
Inspiring me to look outside
And within
To find strength
In a place of loss
Counting off the hours
Assigning rituals
To minutes
Pointless
But grounding me here
Documenting
My wake
My wash
My wait
My words
Gluing memories to the page
Reminding me to stay in place
Afraid of the dark
Be back later
The sun beamed down
Upon my face
As I imagined myself
Back in the Lanes
The courtyard cutting
Through my daze
For days
I wandered
To the stationery store
Mint green outside
Gold inside the door
Ready to write
Scribbled notes held tight
This is the place I want
To be my home
The place I want to die
I thought I’d never come back