Here I Sit, Alone, by Sam Pepper

thumbnail_Freckled+Ink+Draft1.jpg

Here I Sit, Alone, by Sam Pepper

Here I sit, alone

in a rusted silver Rover

in a supermarket car park,

at night.

It’s raining bullets of hail onto the bonnet and roof –

echoing.

There’s the odd passer-by, who travels

below the street lights in the distance,

looking in the direction of a lonely car with the radio on.

Their shadow jumps seeing the desolation within.

I’m thinking of you. Or, at least, the idea of you.

Another cigarette and a few more sips of 60-year-old whiskey,

and I’m thinking it’s because of me.

I’m thinking it’s because of me,

that there’s no point in me being here

because I’m not worth a life.

And I’m thinking I don’t like this radio channel –

I’m thinking that I’m drunk.

There’s too much smoke in the car, so I open a window.

I could wait for the store to open –

only 4 hours, 13 minutes and 26 seconds,

25,

24.

I see tunnels.

No longer a light at the end of them,

just the darkness of no longer being loved

as I wake up to the thrilling realm of reality:

trapped and isolated.

Here I sit, alone

in an empty car park

at night. Thinking of you.

Or, at least, the idea of you,

I’ve not decided yet.


Sam is a second year university student at Winchester studying Creative Writing and English Literature. He has always enjoyed writing poetry in his spare time. He is a big sports fan, he especially enjoys cricket and football. He finds writing to be a cathartic exercise and a chance to escape from the world and imagine your own. He describes his biggest inspirations as Shane Koyczan and Charles Bukowski.