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Grey - Kirsty Brewerton


from clouds to ground

All around

this blanket

swamps me.

I’m living a black and white movie.

Drowning in grey

like a dead weight

steals my fate

from the moment I wake.

Just grey.

It’s hard to describe

how it feels sometimes

this constant grinding

of my mind.

Like a vice;


clamped tight.

Til it pops.

Endless grey

is exhausting,



me to do or say

the darkest grey.

The hue may change

differing tones and shades

some days it fades

but always

a patch remains

like a cancer.


it lays,

it waits,

it invades,

my fucking broken brain.

I can’t remember when I first met grey,

hard to pinpoint a particular day.

Interesting now he has a name

I can see the memories he enslaves.

Does pointing fingers win the game?

Is me to blame?

Would others have coped better with the same?

This is the problem with grey,

this fog he exudes

obscures the view

making it almost impossible

to find a way through.

Smoke of charcoal grey

weaves its way

around your brain

like a toxic sinuous snake.

If you let him slither away

he burrows deep inside

where he ignites

any scrap of emotional pain

to poison your entire being.

Grey makes life not worth living.

If you let him.

His silver tongue

uses manipulation

to ensure you feel

you have no home.

It’s hard to imagine

what would have happened

if I’d let him win.

If grey convinced me to believe

the world would work better

without me in.

Battling with grey

when he used to say

it’s more damaging for you to stay.

So be kind,

save them from a life

of you

and your destructive mind.

Well grey – fuck you

‘cause one day

there was a gap of blue

a chink of light shone through

and escaped.

Rolled over me in waves

lifting the malaise

creasing my face,

diverting my gaze

and recalibrating my brain.

The process was slow

grey obviously didn’t want to go

but I learned how to cope

with life

with my mind

and the whisp of grey left behind.

He still lingers,

like the smell of onion on your fingers

or blisters

on the hands of bell ringers

there are parts of my life he still tinges.

I doubt he’ll ever fully emigrate,

but for now an extended holiday

and the skills to keep him at bay

will have to do for me.

I'm finally


probably the happiest I’ve been

in years.

Cause now I can see


in in Technicolor

and 3D.

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