you've been to Bali, but you've never put out a cigarette on your arm

you’ve been to Bali, but you’ve never put out a cigarette on your arm

 

your brown belt,

matches your brown shoes.

just like on the website.

 

this season’s tan,

wilted your visa,

whilst you watched Bali

from a hotel pool.

 

your wedding, now just

a few clicks away.

even conceiving has been costed.

given a window

on the last weekend

of the honeymoon.

 

going forward,

i imagine it’ll be pampered,

for around three weeks,

then quietly forgotten.

 

it’ll probably be an ugly baby,

just to annoy you.

 

 

you’ve never cut yourself

with a broken bottle.

 

you’ve never seen the city

from the bird-high

lip of the car-park.

 

you’ve never given in,

curling up to die

in a telephone box.

 

you’ve never cried yourself inside out,

watching the sun set.

and rise.

and set again.

 

you’ve never put a cigarette out

on your arm,

to still the silent scream inside.

 

maybe,

if you had,

you’d feel more alive.