angela

this morning 

i walked 

into public 

toilets

- you lay

shaking in corner

back against the wall

dead eyes

in a pool 

of blood

on the floor

yours

two 

suicide addicts

held gaze
superficial separation

bonded strangers

i asked

- as you bled

into

cold concrete

the congealed red

treacle unreal

mine

"what happened?"

you told me 

i knew

- it's true

i became

society blanketed

them not us 

divided i drove

to buy aspirin 

your secret

in the news

ours

surprised

by my return

i said my name

- victoria

accused with 

stained razor

cast beside cheap 

beach towel edges 

lapped by red waves

of generating media 

storm weathered

theirs

broken sneer 

"it's only a try"

i pointed out

angry arm wounds

and showed

my outside scars

- a litre of blood

freshly butchered

thick and sticky

a fly skimmed 

becoming stuck on

you

shared code

you relaxed 

a little, asked

"am i psychic?"

i said

"a little", your 

penetrating stare

was accompanied 

by words, "a lot"

felt fingers 

dial 000

them

waiting

for sirens

we spoke of 

reinvention

crying

you said "i don't

live here anymore".

"it's a shitty town anyway"

i laughed

avoiding psych nurse

sycophant overtones

me

the ambos said

to give you

fake details

before i left

she wrote sarah

but i changed it

the sick and poor

are people too

even when drowning

in scarlet lies

- your name is 

angela