Him.

A stream of painful memories surrounding an ex lover.

I don't even want to mention the reason I started writing this poem
Maybe instead I'll talk about tents and the grass outside
That makes me laugh
And think about Tamsin
I wonder how she is? That makes me think about my mistakes in Croatia
I could tell you about people who talk too fast, evenfasterthanme.
I know!
You'd love the story of the car and the petrol but suddenly I change my mind and don't want to talk about why but only want to
Look at how many times I've said 'I' so far.
Maybe instead I'll write about red hair and silent music.
Anything but the reason I started writing this poem.

One secret. Everything I've said has been laced with