“I Just Dropped Dead Inside Myself…”

She explained softly, quietly
to the Stranger listening patiently
upon the other end of the telephone line.
“I became a Ghost, trapped,
and destined to roam around,
inside the ruins of what my life had now become.
At first, I searched the horizon,
in every direction,
for a Beacon,
a Lighthouse to help steer my desolate course
away from the jagged rocks
which I had become soul-shipwrecked upon.
A distant Sail of Rescue did not come…
and as the weeks ground into months,
until finally a new calendar replaced the old,
I realized that I was looking for Hope
in the wrong place.
That I would have to fight this Struggle
alone to begin with…
so here I am, still Lost and Butchered…
not asking for Help exactly,
but, only the smallest hand of Encouragement.”

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.