Escapril: A Liminal Space

i wait
for something to happen,
i wait
for my body to grow,
for my mind to conquer,
but nothing happens,
i am stuck,
until i realise
i need to move my feet
in order to progress.

Escapril: Without Your Name, Who Are You?

Without my name,
I am skin with a personality,
a body with a mind,
a mush of thoughts and feelings,
but no one to credit them to.
I am that anonymous quote
you once saw, from a forgotten
philosopher who had no name.
I am made of blood and tears,
but without my name,
who will come to my funeral?
I am tired eyes and blistered lips,
swollen heart and crushed brain,
because without my name,
I am a mess.
Without my name, who am I?
Forgotten or remembered
just as the one with no name?
How can you be remembered
if no one knows your identity?
Banksy, I suppose, I could become,
an artist who hides their real name
yet has great success,
like me maybe, without no name.
With my name, I have boundaries,
without it, perhaps I am limitless.
I am no longer limited to identity;
it might be freeing, to have no name.

Escapril: Body As Friend (or foe)

my body is nice, sometimes;
she tells me when I’m hungry,
or thirsty, and reminds me
when to sleep.

my body is mean, sometimes;
she causes indescribable pain,
and blood where it should not be,
and sadness too.

my body is scary, sometimes;
she reminds me that I’m mortal,
and that I’m dying,
but she reminds me to cherish life.

my body is mine,
and we may have disagreements
just like family,
but we will always be together.

Escapril: Describe a Smell

your hand over your mouth,
you look at what’s ahead.
sick, on the floor,
blood combined with it;
trampled lungs,
grey in dust,
deflated like a balloon,
easily unrecognisable;
a face beyond,
sunken eyes, open mouth,
charred fingers and singed toes,
cigarette still stuck in his yellow teeth.
you finally open your eyes
and realise the smoke alarm
has gone off.
you burnt your toast.

Escapril: Make It Rhyme

I struggled a bit with this one as I hate forced rhymes but I think it turned out alright. I mostly used a rhyme scheme but there were a few lines I strayed from it.

On an island,
Surrounded by sand,
Want to go back,
Stuck with only one backpack.

Inside is some coke,
and a cigarette to smoke.
Nothing to save me,
But maybe it’ll set me free.

I find some cards,
Solitaire is too hard —
I stack them instead,
Taking in turns with black and red.

No food,
No mood,
No time left to live,
No peace to give.

Only sorrow,
As I see only the now,
The future is gone,
Everyone was wrong.

I wasn’t going to be a boss,
But that’s not a loss,
What’s sad is I’ll always be without
anyone to care about.

No one will remember me,
I’ll be that dude who died at sea,
No one will know that I didn’t die at 20,
I died at 21.