Five candles on a Thursday / by Jeppe Møgelmose

Feeling excluded from
my own life
flirting with
mental illness
through electronic devices

depressing
rhythm and poetry
speakers declaring clearly
my mood to
the inhabitants of my room
me

alone
as you are not here
and it is unlikely
that you will ever return
to the us that we failed
only experienced
in summer dreams
soon forgotten
by anybody but me
is my fear

keyboard not able
to encapsulate that
which is inside me
only you could
though broken and
damaged
your scarred soul
soothed me
perfectly
felt at home in us

but showed it too
slowly
a year too late
broken now
like the pottery i throw
in my mind