Break

I’ve got no one to sit with me on break when the sun is too hot to keep my jacket on,
There are seagull parents and their children crying out high pitched warnings whilst I sit on a bench alone,
I lock eyes momentarily with figures across the courtyard who would rather meet the gaze of the pint of cider in front of them,
There is nobody here who will look into my eyes and see the reflection of the hint of blue between the clouds

As I fight the urge to search frantically for connection amongst strangers I consider you,
I am left asking what you might pick for lunch if either you or lunch were at all real,
Looking back towards the curved glass of the office block I can’t help but design shapes in my head in which you might manifest,
Despite the furious attempts of the wind I am still able to fathom the sound of your voice which I have likely yet to hear

In the hot gusts and stray ash of a nearby cigarette I take out a book from my bag,
As the sun gets whiter and more ferocious I retrieve my sunglasses and try to picture the sunglasses that you would wear,
I look up to find the other side of the wooden bench as empty as it is every day that I come here,
Searching the pages before me with rage and desperation I am unable to find respite or company in their fiction

Checking my phone for a fifth time does not yield any new messages,
As students and their parents bicker about pans and cutlery and video calls I continue to notice my own silence,
Without company I wonder if my voice will continue to shrink until I am condemned never to speak another word,
No matter how hard I think of the sound of screaming I cannot make my open mouth seize anybody’s attention

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