Events

Dear psychiatrist

I will embrace this life

Why wouldn't I?

I will live

and have the 2.14 kids

and the house in the suburbs

- it is more quiet there

And I raise the children

Happy times, sad times

Things to do, gardens to be cut

I think I would be a good father

I'm pretty good with animals anyway

Friends will come and go

A wedding here or there

perhaps more funerals towards the end

Events, events

Like jewels, We gather so much of them around us

Treasuring our memories

Packing them neatly away to protect them

Looking at them from time to time

But they are ornamental pottery, mainly

Any maybe we'll get older together

I'll take walks with you instead of going to the gym

My heart can't take the weights these days

Any maybe I'll think less

But complain, about safe things like the new guy presenting the late late

Any over one, or a few, or many, days I will get sick

You will be with me, I love you, I love all of you

I will close my eyes slowly, hesitantly

A faceless morphine nurse guiding me towards peacefulness

I will embark fearfully under my calm skin

And start to shed my events

- their vogue has nowhere to go, just rubbish now

Maybe the best ones have been borrowed into someone elses head

I will set off in a storm of terror

Somewhere