Trigger Warnings

I only discovered a couple of nights ago: the film Paul’s mum tried to hide was The Bat People, scrambling to wallop pause when we barged in to ask if we could play footy. And she said No (it was raining) then Pack it in barging about so of course we watched it later, when she popped out – or some of it. For half an hour I sat in fear of all the new fears my mind might shout that night, or others: a wizened me retching my last, then last, then last; my fingers stretching as cold translucence is pistoned through my veins; the blade behind me on each dark homeward lane.

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