Paul Robert Mullen is a poet, musician and sociable loner from Southport, near Liverpool, UK. He is a keen traveller, having lived and worked in China and Australia, and has scaled the entirety of Asia. He also enjoys Leonard Cohen, bass guitar riffs, porridge, paperback books with broken spines, and all things minimalist.
Hurt slips down
cheek and curve,
wet tracks into mouth, and
just stop crying.
The walls drop away but I stay sentient –
for now.
Frame hiccups,
hook and dip,
seizes split lip,
bite down on cut tissue –
bloody wine
and
just stop crying.
I can sink lower, though,
and melt into the sticky floor.
The rest, purple,
blooming and bruising,
clasp a hand,
itch it back, but escaping
again, oozing
tripping all over itself, and
still
crying.
Wilt across the linoleum floor,
but sick peace now,
no more,
no more,
no more.
A young writer from North Yorkshire, Emily has recently discovered that she actually likes creative writing, despite everything she may have previously said. Quite likely to be found in a local cafe drinking four cups of tea and procrastinating about her work, (someone feed her please), she can also be found on Twitter @emily__harrison. She apologises in advance for her tweets.
Foxglove Journal 