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.

words: Sophie Wilson | photo: Ellie Connor-Phillips