Nisha finds sadness in Magnets.
The way the plus points can’t touch,
How they can only be attracted to opposites.
I’m like Nisha- they’re magnets.
It’s around nine pm on the Bakerloo line
and this girl is straightening her partners collar.
She untucks it from his jumper and smiles.
I’m like- alright love keep it to yourself.
I’m at Leanne’s house party in Queens park
she invited me, double checking if I’m single
saying it’s a bit of a singles party.
to myself I’m like- so lonely people only.
to her I’m like- what time.
There’s a bit of sadness in my nights out
and I can’t escape the sadness, it’s my own self.
The desperation for companionship
leaking into conversations gaps like a silent fart.
haha! (hold me!)
Leanne introduces me to the room as a beat boxer.
I’ve never beatboxed in my life. (Jesus fucking christ)
Try to put a minus with the plus.
I’d be twenty quid down by now if this was a pub.
I check out the living room’s DVD collection.
“You can’t come in here”
These yours? You’ve got Curb your enthusiasm!
“This isn’t the party space”
I maintain eye contact in a conversation
while reaching for a Captain Morgan
and a jar full of cookies falls off the table,
smashes. Now all of them are inedible
because they’re mixed with glass.
I’m like- I bet one of them’s alright.