Touching the Cold Tiles

(Steven Stringer)

Contemplating a difficult childhood, and the simple happy memories that accompany it.

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Different colours, shaking like frost. Osmosis of my soul, staked through us. What came before the open heart surgery? What was the name your lover gave you? Before the pool was filled with chlorine, Where childhood memories coalesced Into meaningless carvings in a tree. The dying of stars means nothing to me. The fading of something so far stings less than bees. Covered bruises from climbing the treehouse. I was so confused by everything, And I still am, I wish I had the strength to go on. Life can be hard, in fact it always is, Even just one day can feel so long til it's gone. Summer's just a distant dream, Riding bikes to buy ice-cream, Your jacket billows like a cape, Yellow and brown the sun sets down, Hopes and ambitions roll away. Life can be hard, in fact it always is, Even just one day can feel so long til it's gone. What's wrong with Dad today, The morning's just started I'd say, The floor tiles are cold on my feet, The milk XX XX XXXXXX XX X XXXXXX XXXXXX XXX XXXX XX XXXXXXX XX XXX XXXX XX XXXX XXXXXXX XXXX XXX XX XXXXX XX XXXX XX XXXXXX XXX XXXX XXXX XXX XXX XXX XXXX XX XXXX XXX XXXX XXXXX XXXXXX XXXXXXX XXXX XXX XXXXXXXX XXXXX XXXX XXX X XXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX XXXXXXX XXXXXXX XXX XXX XXXXX XXXXX XXXX XXXXX XXXX XX XXXX XXXXXX XXX XX XXXXXXXX XXXXX XXXXXX XXXXXXX XXXX XXX XX XXXXX XX XXXX XX XXXXXX XXX XXXX XXXX XXX XXX XXX XXXX XX XXXX XXX XXXX XXXXX

© Steven Stringer 2019

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