February’s Beach

She’s having that ‘Feeling’ again.
Came like a lightning strike
smashing through the soul armour
and bullseye-ing
the deplorable vulnerability…
lost, inside.
Her mind instantly regresses
backwards
across previous episodes,
like mental stepping stones.
The last time, at the tail-end
of her mid-thirties divorce…
where everything turned
blinding, migraine white.
Then the breakdown
of her early twenties…
the desperate days
of snapping and buckling,
and the safety bar
forever just out of… reach.
Before that,
the chaotic maelstrom of adolescence,
where confusion,
schizophrenic emotions
and anger… took turns
throne-ing the embarrassing days.
Back, finally, to late childhood,
and February’s Bleak Beach,
where, she was forgotten, temporarily,
like a picnic blanket, after the fact,
or a birthday cake,
placed unconsciously
upon the roof of a car
whilst the door is being opened,
before then driving thoughtlessly… away.

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world. He yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his books Scribblings Of A Madman (Lit Fest Press); Poetry From The Nearest Barstool; and a split poetry book The Raven And The Vagabond Heart with Bethany W Pope. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.