Morning Truths

When you wake
looking for me
one last time –

silently, how cold
I was, the night

no one came.
Dry your tears
in her soft hair –

where memories, of me,
will be carried away
by armies of lice.

It would be fitting,
to grind, what is left,
of me, to dust: spread it,

over your new hearth;
she won’t notice;
not underneath –

all that is new,
where the passions
of your home fires

burn, I will fade
in morning cinders,
and you can tell her:

‘I never had a life,
not before you’
it can be true.



Tied at the kitchen sink,
screams captured, by the ceiling –
photos in the sitting room tell a different story.

Tears unseen,
all that was left was a girl in a box,
buried alive, if only she’d been oxygenated.

Once a sweet peach,
everyone peered in, murmuring:
‘what happened to her?’

Wails of what they might say –
if only there was one more day,
the sun might rise – she might see it differently,

But the horrific truth:
he would not find happiness,
not until he had her in a box.

-L.J. Lenehan-

Longevity is fated

pizzaIt’s late, my head throbs,
your face has drained of colour,
if only, I could rest my head –
you might believe for a while
I always loved you.

Problems faded away at your death bed,
all I could remember was, for better or worse,
you joked, I’m here for the better,
I laughed, not knowing worse would be a frequenter.
I’m tired now, but promises from the start

remind us both – till death do we part,
suspicions aside, there is no denying
longevity is fated with an end in everything
if there has been no ending, it is in fact,
not over.

-L.J. Lenehan-

First Hello

An agreement made,
rooted in time,
no promises, no regrets,
each chapter silently unfolded
a scene that deleted
a piece of me.

I evolved from all the re-writes
into a breathless, nameless shape
unprepared to exchange me,
for nothing.
Spiraling in doubt, about what I owe –
it was I that paid the price

of mornings with no hope
left only with regrets
that the final goodbye
was no more beautiful
than the first hello
when I was complete.

-L.J. Lenehan-

Photo from:


Our unlit love
hidden in a battlefield
of intolerable uncertainty.

Where sexuality
intertwines our souls
absconding from

masculine or feminine
emerging from near destruction
to that which is untouchable.

Our love, unlit, unseen, unreplicable,
it is in the air, where we consumed each other,
to become one.

-L.J. Lenehan-

Photo by:

A cold, dry day in January eleven years ago,
all our faults washed away,
we were suspended in well wishers and our own bubbly hopes,
the car would not start, our dinner went cold,
how we would pay was a problem for another day,
we happily would have lingered on the tip of the crescent moon
for a century or two,
we were immortal in our youth,
invincible in our resolve,
love was our armour on that cold, dry day in January
eleven years ago,

-L.J. Lenehan-
Photo by:

My Greatest Inadequacy

In the sharp angles of my doorway
a message waits for me, I stumble
in a sober way and say,
‘no thank you, not today.’

Locking the door, I contend with
larger than life features in an
empty house, a soulless place
that took everything from me.

Each wall murals unfulfilled dreams,
how unassumingly the years passed,
then one day, today, I fell fetal
underneath the staircase

shocked that everything I sold
for a piece of normality was given freely.
Dogs bark triumphantly,
the cay meows, the children bicker,

moving quickly through the house
the life I created to conceal,
my greatest inadequacy,

-L.J. Lenehan-

I Love You…

When you said the sun had no heat
I blistered, without cream
When you said the rain was not wet
I drowned, in overflowing river banks
When you said the snow was not cold
I got hypothermia, walking to you
When you said there were no rocks beneath the sea
I jumped in, ended up in hospital
When you said life with you would be simple
I lost myself, in you
But you never meant the three words you often said
I love you.

-L.J. Lenehan-

Satan was in the Chinese today,
same restaurant as me,
slovenly, an evil glint in his eye,
repulsed, I wanted nothing more
than to turn and go –
but his gluttonous words spewed out,
nauseating me, I turned blue
in the tenderness of his grasp,
my heart never had a chance.

-L.J. Lenehan-