One From The Break-up Archive…


I just found this in the break-up archive (yeah I’ve had a lot of them) and thought I would pop it on here… it’s called We Will Never Run. I hate running so that’s probably why the ‘run’ never happened. Perhaps it should just be ‘I will never run’ but I think, on the whole, a love poem is more interesting than one about reluctance to exercise.


We Will Never Run


Leave your stomach of butterflies at the door

I prefer moths.

Two magpies make a promise and your faith is restored

But  I can offer you nothing

Only my hat.


I cannot spare you my lung

Can you not use your own?


I cannot warm your mind when the frost descends, 

nor tend to your smouldering fire,

I can’t feed your ruthless appetite

nor guide your blind  desire.


Leave it.


Leave your rigid version of me

in the home of our impossible future.


Awkwardly our names sit

On an envelope

Through the letter box

Of a French grey door

to a house

Just south of your imagination.


Your contact lenses are out of stock

I’m not blonde.

It is mousey brown.

My hair is mousey brown.


Take off your running gloves

My hands are cracked

they’re not soft.

Take off your shoes,

We will never run.

We will never run.