Having a clear out of first lines for poems I shall never write.

rentalassistance434654@mstdn.party

@brianbilston https://findyourhouse.godaddysites.com/

dusk@todon.eu

@brianbilston

Ska

Oi Oi!

Pick-it-up pick-it-up

Never stop skanking, rude boy

markmason@mas.to

@brianbilston
Please don’t do that it’s disgusting
Was what they used to say
When I did that thing I used to do
to make you go away
But years have passed and
We are cast
in different roles today
So now you do it with me
And I like it more that way

joejoetom@famichiki.jp

@brianbilston

Our love is a broken oatcake
Today we shall make strudel
The sky is darkening, and yet the dove
Doth barely resembleth a poodle

garthderby@mstdn.party

@brianbilston

I see you forgot the fabric softener again
As my socks crackle down the carpet in the hall
And as for the blanket upon my favorite chair
It’s caused the cat to stick upon the wall.

netraven@hear-me.social

@brianbilston

Where have you been?
This is unbearable—please don’t go yet. Please don’t leave.

I keep replaying it; I keep seeing it; I keep hearing it.
I remember Newport; I remember Pagnell; I remember the bowl with the chipped rim—
and I hate that I remember it so clearly.

We said we would make things right this winter, and you listened, and I listened.
But today the questions won’t stop: why now, why like this, why again?
The sky keeps darkening—again and again—and I can’t tell if it’s the weather or me.

I saw Carter. He called. I didn’t answer at first.
I tried to steady myself, but the bleeding wouldn’t slow, and I was afraid to ask for help.
I kept thinking, stay, just stay, and then the thought broke in half.

I loved you—still do—and I hate how quickly love turns into something sharp.
I forgot the simplest things; I forgot what I meant to say; I forgot what I promised.
And then I remembered, all at once, and it felt worse.

Please don’t turn this into another unfinished goodbye.
If you can, come back. If you can’t, at least tell me the truth.
Do you remember?
Or am I the only one holding the chipped pieces and calling them a whole?

mdm@mcnamarii.town

@brianbilston

"I am a bowl, chipped at the rim
Never to be filled up with cereal again by him
No more will I be filled up with Captain Crunch all the time,
He really should grow up and pick a different kind"