Why am I dreaming of you again?
Ten years since I lay on your bed,
head at your feet,
grief coiling me like a spring.
Morphine fuelled your dreams –
screams and despair –
air full of your breath,
death rattling your bones,
stone-cold as the ice cubes
you couldn’t keep down.

Now, blood full of shards,
sharp grit in my eyes,
I sink again.

Ten years since I lay on your bed,
head at your feet, and heard
words that emptied me inside –
‘I know you’re killing me’.

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