a dark week by the sea
the sky turned from blue to black
as I staggered off the train,
you, more holding me than I you
we found no comfort in the arms of seaside smells,
the streets growing darker
as we made our way unfocused to the b+b,
surely by now you should realise
you shouldn’t waste your time on me.
falling through a closed door
and greeted by an angry smile,
we were ushered to our tiny room
with a view of washing lines,
cracking open bottles and cans
we made ourselves quite comfy,
just made a sit down for the evening meal
and charmed a whiskey instead of a coffee.
we walked around in a swirling haze
off peak seaside dwellers littered the streets,
the fake environment beleaguered me
long enough to rouse my eyes from sleep,
this dire place was just a hell from home
a wasted time is obviously the order here,
surely now you should realise
why you shouldn’t hold me so dear.
back inside the one windowed room
the washing still gently blowing,
I took a bottle to my lips
and watched without care or knowing,
that come the morning the chambermaid
would find us gone and checked out,
all that’s left is a room full of vomit
and a damp mattress drying out.
on the train on the way home
I caught your grimace my way,
I could see despair in your eyes
now you wonder what you see in me,
you can’t rely on an alcoholics promises
that we both know I will break,
but still you stayed even though you know
I’ll give you more than you can take.
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