Ten years on

Ten years on

Nothing has gone

Very far

Locked inside

Trying to get out

Unless I am lost

Outside, trying to get in.

Pass the jug

I am punch drunk

An excuse too often used

But it is an expression

Of causation

Offering the chance

Of sobriety

Or a gradual

Decline in morbidity.

I see a guy

Not much older than me

On the step

Outside the chemist

Scratching his face

Beating his chest

Exorcising demons

I could be him

Pulling the heads off chickens

Stamping out fires.

There is a madness

To it

It is an abyss

There is no bottom

To the fall

No burning gold.

Bring me my bow

I will fire my last arrow

Bury me wherever it lands.

It is not romance

It is execution

There is an inevitability

To suffering

It only ends

When we give up.