Two days in my bedroom,
with tins of super strength lager,
and Lucky Strike cigarettes from Rachel.
A headache again,
the alcohol surging to inspire.
Warm sentiments of new friends,
and visions of cold places plentiful.
Maybe something in Warsaw.
Like a new mortgage.
And then I see her waiting in the rain.
Waiting outside my window cold,
lonely smiling,
those little bronze tins
enticing the strangest hallucination of the non-life –
a profound desire to experience the other side,
in a flash awakening.

Written by Jack Brewis