I write almost every day and even worked professionally in journalism for a number of years, so it definitely feels odd to be nervous about sharing something I’ve created to a wider audience, but that is universally the case for me with poetry.
Most of the time, I would sooner share something I made in the toilet with an audience than share a poem I’ve written. But I’m still fond of the one I’m sharing below a few weeks after writing it, and I thought that might be a sign that I’m ready to put it out in the world. As a brief disclaimer, existential themes are a very common motif in my writing, please don’t read into them negatively. I have a very good life, but it helps me immensely to approach it knowing it could end at any time and that when it does, that will be ok with me.
Living Will
Some time from now
When this is long over,
Look reflexively to a chair I often slipped into,
Sliding awkwardly out of my heavy coat
The spot on the sofa so scandalously close to you that our bodies might have briefly touched as you leaned back to laugh,
The empty air between you both as you walk down a familiar street,
My loves, don’t miss me.
Look to any of the spaces that I lived to occupy
And smile when your eyes meet instead
Splorchtown 