Poetry: Sophie Wilson
Change here for the northern line
Stringing myself along through
Tube station corridors
Some vague dream in my brain
Always wanted more
But I’m scared of boredom,
themed city tours
And trains full of strangers with
The strange delusions
of dodgy drunken rearrangers
Brakes strain to sing as they pull in,
Like you lose those heavy nights with gin
No light at the end, just blood and spite
Lifting the lid from my coarse desires
Girl on fire, now design the end of my world
Then report it in discarded Evening Standard’s
Unfurled on dirty staircases
Where I lay down traces for
Future faces to look at and laugh.
Tough love. Tear up my heart
And my notebooks. Start from scratch.
Mistaken for true love, mistook.
But at length I try to stay grounded
Falling falling from my curated high and
Gossip unfounded. Mount the railings,
Waving manifestos of my failings,
Tonight, tonight I won’t overstep the line
Tonight I won’t delay the train or chase the light.