in the end:
it was everything you never said

that set your place at my table
every night

while I ate: alone,
watching re-runs of us

tired promises of happily ever after
lump in my oesophagus

but I never ate anyway,
not alone, not with you, not with anyone;

the roast burned, potatoes boiled over,
while I sat, motionless

in the deafening echo
of your silence

I remember those final moments
and why I stay:

forever alone.

images (4)

The house:
now covered in cracks, mocks with each creak
the downfall of the happily ever after
covered by weeds, infested with parasites
the corners leak staining the walls
that were once so smooth
now poorly spackled to cover the holes
beds broken inwards with shreds of material
masquerading as sheets

Once upon a time:
the house was the dream, happiness filled the empty space
the garden manicured, windows sparkling, cills polished
oh, it was truly something to be proud of
and my love was enough to maintain all that was perfect
as the years went on and the house absorbed the secrets
the dreams evaporated and all keeping up perfection
became the sword that destroyed my heart
and cursed the house of the happily ever after.



‘Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love’ (Shakespeare)

Indeed, there have been lovers, but none so closed as you…
How tight your lips are when I express myself in your mouth…
Grimacing at the memory of every woman you never loved…
Those blasted shackles of all that happened – before me – before you –
Incapable of anything more than a painful touch;
that penetrates all we will never be…


I see it in your eyes, he said,
suspiciously, I glanced –
perhaps a piece of my soul slipped out?

In my head, under the Eiffel tower
Parisian lights polluted the Seine river
reflecting the lovers here before;

blinding our histories – fresh air accosted
every sense, the limited space between our bodies
grew hope, love fragrant in the night air.

-L.J. Lenehan

Another Dime Store Prince

Another dime store prince
living in a nineteenth century
ice box.

Empty aluminium clamours in the night.
He’d already packed my things
but wanted my truths.

Frozen by fear, my truths are muted,
frost bitten, one more hurt
under the avalanche of snow.

The reflection of the city night, questions:
why now?
But in a world full of nows

there are no answers
and my dime store prince, so gentle,
so adamant to protect his solitary fortress –

he fears spending what he has not got
I wish this might have ended
different to the rest.

-L.J. Lenehan1220597235-m

Motionless from the view of your soul,
disguised in pain, waiting for the knock
of my heart at your door.

Should you open – I might listen
to your stories, if you listen to mine
we can put this world to right.

How romantic it sounds: naked love,
a timeless collapse of you and me
indefinite in a wild undercurrent.

-L.J. Lenehan


2014 in review

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,600 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 43 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.