Sometimes I venture out on the coldest day

And deliberately underdress

In hopes that the wind will freeze me

Those pinpricks up and down the flesh

The open isolation

The stillness and obstructed view

The fog, the unknown

And revel in the freedom of it all

 

Sometimes I sit on the edge of the bed

And open the door out to the landing

And look into the darkness

To the moonlight shining through the window

At the end of the corridor

To the mist under the street lamp

The foggy angled shadow

And revel in the numbness of it all

 

Sometimes I find the saddest songs

And I tie them first in a string

Then tie them in a loop

And run my finger round the circle

Repeatedly, until I weep

To feel the release I get nowhere else

The exhale that rage never brings

And revel in the tension of it all

 

Sometimes I look at frightening things

Preferably when alone

Mugshots, death spots and the unexplained

In hopes that something comes to get me

Whether it’s true or not means nothing at all

It’s that emotional razor blade after all

I revel in the thrill of it all