Decade of Disrepair

The eighties live on in my shoulders
I don’t know how that happened
Born in the early nineties I
Was a scrawny little teen
Pushing purple fists through plaster I
Was furious sad and so scared
Unaware that my walls would fall
Into a decade of disrepair
A decade of disrepair
A decade of disrepair
Nine nights
Burned in my memory
Nineteen nights
Burned in my memory
Ninety-nine nights
Burned in my memory
When I was sixteen or seventeen
I opened a bottle of champagne
A celebration of walking
A hundred meters in the dark, and
Trauma can live as a silent beast
Mine avoided naming for seven years
And on my very being it did feast
But I’ll starve the beast to death
Now I’ve got a handful of stories
I’ve got my personal mythology
And I recognise the gods that sheltered me
Through a decade of disrepair
A decade of disrepair
A decade of disrepair
A decade of disrepair