Only Alice (6th December, 2011)

Lift foot off the gas; I’m slowing this down:

a series of journeys that never end;

if life has no meaning, what do I read

in all of this? And why the sacrifice?

Decelerate: time bleeds red into white

and blackens; I shift through patterns of work

and sleep; other needs matter not. Shattered.

Don’t admit defeat; play, smile and eat; keep

breathing. Can you feel my heart beating slow;

rise and fall with echoes of what I know?

Pull wheel to the left, and then to the right:

I twist and turn; brake, accelerate, fight.

Open roads are pure American dreams,

right? British hearts seek destinations; they

chase white rabbits for explanations, and

bury themselves in their deprivations.

Tonight, I blink at the blank white screen; I

try to apply restraint to the shape of

my words, but find no boundary. Clocks are

the only obstacles: they go light speed.

I’m only Alice for this one night stand,

against the walls I’ve built; I will show my

hand. So, eat me, drink me, devour my mind;

you’ll go blind. Accelerate: tears disguise.

Jennifer Pickup