They told me –

be grateful for what you have,

don’t worry so much about the future,

find the joy in each moment

– and so I did.

I played and danced and flirted.

I laughed and drank and fucked.

I saw every vibrant second in TECHNICOLOUR GLORY.


Then they told me –

you’re sick,

you need medication,

and a key-worker

– and so I complied.

I swallowed tablets and rested and budgeted.

I attended appointments and talked and cried.

I saw the mess I had created and wanted to burrow away.


Then they told me –

well done, you’re better!

make sure you never go back

to that other place

– and so I don’t.

I work and sleep and pay bills.

I contemplate and deliberate and endure.

I wait in ANXIOUS ANTICIPATION for a relapse that never appears.