The Promised Land

I hope it’s like they said

That the land has the softness

Of a thousand beds

That each blade of grass

Holds a field

That the rain massages you

And that you never go hungry again

That the food springs up from the ground

At a stomachs grumble

Suicidal Fantasy

I grab a chair from the kitchen

Moving it to the centre of the room

Where a noose hangs from the ceiling

I learnt the hangman’s knot

From the scouts

One of the only things I could do right

 

I stood up on the chair

And looked around my living room

So dark, so empty

There’s no substance

Empty pots, dirty plates

There’s no living here

The window shows me

The bleak landcsape of the moors

Lifeless, dead trees

Grey skies

Carcasses of sheep

 

I look through the noose

 

A land of sharp, green grass

Vibrant, powerful colours

Flowers of the rainbow

Pure white skies

Bustling wildlife, birds of paradise

Singing sweet songs of euphoria

 

I kick the chair

 

My neck doesn’t break

 

So I guess I’ll just have to wait

The two worlds merge together

Like broken clips of film

Till I’ve lost all distinction between the two

Out of focus, blurry

The pixels dislodge and fly off

In all directions

Losing colour as they fizzle out

Fading into a harmonious white

My body breaks up

Melting into the white fabric

I see bits of memory float away

Dreams, reality, nothing..

 

Faint light

I stand on top

Of a tall, black plateau

Overlooking all I see

A dry, grey, barren landscape

Acid spitting burnt flowers

Rusted mechanical scraps

Pure white skeletons

Of all shapes

And sizes

Litter the floor

Bound in equality

Holding hands

I see a faint light

Emerging from sinister clouds

I look down

The edge of the plateau

And jump