Travel Sickness

City summer heat, bedbug dreams, stuffy street lamp nights,

Spinning visions of how big the world seemed to be,

When she was just a few hours from flight.

No idea of the things we could be, twisting hopes of careless might.

A vision of the world we see, feet sinking in the sodden tide.


Something beautiful in the sadness,

Last night’s news blowing down tube lines,

When all believe god is on their side,

Drunk on self-righteousness,

Puffed out on a pyrrhic sense of pride.


Calculate the cost of distance,

The red eyed loss of time, sitting in an uncomfortable airline chair,

Looking what you were trying to find.


Lost in the leaving,

a face we’ll recognise,

A decision to regret, that sits inside us now forever

Lost in the present tense, living in memory,

Getting darker with ebbing time.


Go turn away, your frosty eye,

Last leaving words said, ‘We could all die tonight’

Or wake to find our melodramas flying down the streets,

So turn again to ask what we should do?

Too late to come back to those we once knew,

Their manic day now turned to star-filled pensive night.


Words by me – image by Sophie


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