Half-Life

Double beds —
Artefacts of desire
Like treadmills bought
In flashes of anticipation
Moments of excitement —
Then left untouched

Symbols of pipe dreams
We once bought into —
Now draped in washing
Abandoned out of sight
Ghosts in garages
Sheds

Until the clear-out —
Finally discarded
Like partners drifting
To other beds
Other embraces

Unused
Cold, untouched monuments —
Centrepieces of our hopes
For intimacy
And connection

Years, decades, lifetimes
Of partnering, vowing, recommitting —
Briefly reignited
By holidays
Nights out
Dinner tables

Small talk, silent duties
Extended families
Joint accounts
Shopping trips, rituals

Small tweaks, big shifts —
Vitamins, fasting, running shoes
Step counters, sleep tech, purifiers
Walks, marathons
Start and stop
Almost there —
Then lost again

Lifetimes —
We persevere
To fall in line
Reframe, rationalise, intellectualise
Our desperate, suffocating days and nights —
For connection
For contentment
For fulfilment

And what of it all —
Isn’t it just
How the world works

Parents, their parents
Neighbours, strangers too —
Aren’t we all suppressing
Tending our patch
Sacrificing, surviving
Occasionally
Catching a flicker
Of peace

By building, repainting, extending —
The very structures
Of our confinement

What’s the alternative —
In open wilderness
No security
No protection
No convenience

Wandering wild
Risking everything
Unburdened
And alive

Another pipe dream
Another ideal

So why not
Play it safe —

Half dead
Half alive