The Colour Poppy

 The vibrations of failure came too soon,
What I remember as a blur of colours and a poorly lit A&E room,
Were more meaningful than I thought.

The unfamiliar look I get from those I used to call “loved”,
The poppies I suddenly saw everywhere.

Fear is addictive in more ways than one,
A descriptive contradiction of one’s pain and one’s love,
We played Cambridge in Newcastle and saw the world unfit,
“Rape Me” to MTV for the thrill of another,
The pain and love both held up in a hospital bed,
Full of the poppies of strangers,
the images my mind found fit.

An ironic song played in an unironic way;
It drove me to do it and fostered my head.

I know if I’d waited I’d be dead,
If I didn't do it they’d numb my incomplete mind,
With poppy coloured pills and a green flannel shirt.

I made a playlist of my troubles,
But no one played it at my funeral.