My Bloody Mind

Blindfolded — this is no parlour
game. Unfold me so I am free
again. A random phrase is as
good as any. You said you want
to leave, but I saw you standing
there. I look for a reprieve, but then
you just swished your hair. You
live in a modern building. I like to
visit. Men wrestle on the pavement
outside. I find it unusual. A random
phrase is as good as any. You said
you’d get your coat, but I saw you
standing there. Your hands were
in your pockets. How can you call this fair?

Why do I long for a life that I
already have? When I’m out I must
be out of my bloody mind.
It was a touching rendition — I heard you
singing in the kitchen, but have
you heard my ‘Superstition’? I
don’t know your motives yet and,
though we’ve just met, now I’m as
far away as I can get. I struggle to
define it: I don’t know your motives
yet. Why do I long for a life that
I already have?