hog plum and lobster

hog plum and lobster

 

as the sun gears itself up

for another day,

young lives

teeter toward ending

bedrooms lit by greedy screens

desperation, silent

screamed into 160 characters

 

as parents sleep

beneath brushed cotton,

dreaming of league tables

of that silver iphone

of that limited edition Audi

of how much better Maisie

is than the girl next door,

of how that ADHD diagnosis

will make it so much easier,

to explain away

latchkey parenting

 

as these slumbering sketches

inhale and exhale

a palette of Farrow & Ball

their children,

are slashing at their skin

with broken bottles,

arms riddled with trackways

left by cheap blunted blades

whilst others,

prefer to spell out names

parent picked from a popularity list

in paracetamol,

quietly deleting themselves

tablet by tablet

 

sweet dead and unfinished, 

gone in their own

doom scrolled reflection

never shown

how to connect

 

some find fragile courage,

step timid along a plush landing,

to find parents bent over screens –

‘just another email – it’s work’

‘not now Freddy, it’s my Feng Shui podcast’ –

the majority,

don’t even notice the door open

 

birdsong brights the morning

just for a moment,

before Alexa organizes breakfast,

the school-run today –

cold latte and untouched croissants,

a bored terrier, pissing on the Italian tiles –

 

everything has stopped

for the black van,

no one wants to see call

 

look on the bright side –

once you’ve buried your children

you’ll have all the time in the world

to recalculate your BMI,

to see if avocado’s still trending,

to fall in love with your fitbit

all over again

 

and a spare room

in hog plum and lobster,

for that indoor gym

you’ve always wanted

 

If you are experiencing thoughts of suicide, you can get support from Samaritans 24/7, by calling free on 116 123.

If you are worried about someone else, you can call HOPELINE247, free on 0800 068 41 41.