Graffiti scrawled walls

Graffiti scrawled walls

words painted on worn bare brick, like word waterfalls

like I’ve arrived at the waiting room of the place where time calls

the hell bound train sat idling in the station

its flame powered engine, filling the tunnel with fearful anticipation

the billowing black stench of sulphur and death

tastes like yesterday

or was that years ago - can barely comprehend the passing of time, I confess

These soot lined walls, red stained graffiti in bathroom stalls

vomit soaked floors, nausea inducing smells that crawl through the halls

I hate this place, the smell the taste, the sweaty embrace, the last dance that we saved

for a chance at romance on a Saturday - the thing we crave

it’s like the first day of school over and over

brain loses all composure

sweat rains down fear prickled skin

tears stream across my chin

but I choose this calling

another night I aim to stagger home, before I fall in

Whose talking?

the lipstick smear, that blurs in front of bleary eyes

says it’s her and my smile is real for a second

like I’m standing in a beautiful sunrise

let’s call her star, for I once wished upon her

I believed in her honour

her love, her hope, her brightness lit the room

the reason I frequented this same place, this grimy club

this place of doom

It’s a lot like an addict after his next fix

except all I wanted - those lips, a kiss to clear my minds deepening mist

we've done the same a hundred times or more, the same spot on the dancefloor

in this god-awful excuse for a bar - a place that she always chose of course

And I knew in my heart that I would be back again, same time same place

same sad expression etched onto my face

as I wait...

checking the clock, just wishing on a star

an addict to the feel of a beating heart

I fell for the alcohol laced kiss

that moment of solitude in a crowded room, where just two souls exist

where only our lips would share in the hope sat there

only our eyes would gaze into the dark and see a brightness through the clouds

but the light was a deceit, a trick played on eyes of the weak

a hypnotist’s trance like state, or a magician’s sleight of hand hiding the truth so bleak

the star I wished upon was never the right one

I put my hope in a bright light and then it was gone

Thanks For Reading.

Peace & Love.

Kyle.