11pm
these words:
it takes a break-up
for me to wake up
for me to wake up
thought there was a floor to this
but there’s always somewhere new to fall
it takes a break-up
for me to wake up
this is my wake up call

Midnight
what does this feel like?
like she’s a gas in a jar that’s been smashed in front of me
my senses are meerkat sentries
under a sky mapped with eagles
she is every thought, every vision, every word

1am
I dream I’m a key on her piano
one she doesn’t use very often-
an F Sharp
or something

she uses my neighbouring keys
all the time
and I have to put up with them
harping on about how good her fingers feel
when she strikes them

2am
I bear no ill towards the man she’s now seeing
simplistically speaking, she and I
split up because
I couldn’t provide a commitment that was acceptable
to her
and as such
this has nothing whatsoever
to do with Bastard Face

3am
everything in her flat is of intrinsic value to me
I know the history of jackets and shoes and CDs
pictures, floorboards, chips in crockery
and when new books have arrived

like missing episodes of a favourite show
I don’t want to fall behind or lose continuity
I wish to see how things evolve
around her

it is 3am: I’m wondering
about which tea towels are out
and what the magazine rack holds

4am
this knot of beetles scurrying around my gut
are moving up-
a battalion of anxiety
that will meld in my throat as a butterfly
and soar from my mouth
should she touch me

5am
there are still a couple of flakes of my skin
and a discarded hair in a doorjamb of her flat

they relay daily bulletins to me
covertly
by e-mail
while she sleeps

they say she’s mostly doing well
and this news pleases and saddens me
equally

I tell them they may as well come home
but they refuse to leave

I don’t blame them

6am
I’m listening to the most beautiful songs
and I imagine I’m singing them to a sea
of faces
in which hers stands out like
a lighthouse

7am
I take out my bag of photographs and memories
ticket stubs and diaries

unzipping it
is like unzipping me-
air forced out like opening vacuum packed coffee

she said at the outset, to cocky, arrogant, untouchable
me
that I would be like this

I should have been prepared

I am not

8am
I think I’ve worked out
what this life’s all about
it’s about the people
you can’t be without