In The Light Field

Let the bad memories crumble into a pile
On the floor of an old warehouse in the middle of Glasgow,
Where no one will set foot in for years,
And when they do,
It will be only to demolish it.

Zoë Campbell, date n/a


About this poem:
I would say this is more of a prose than a poem. I apologise if I ever describe things wrong, I’m not really that savvy with poetry terms. Feel free to fill me in.