Shards#5-6: Terra Ignota

Cal W. Stannard
2 min readJul 3, 2022
www.instagram.com/calwst/

My lockdown stretches on without end
I wake, break the foil, eat what’s inside like it’s advent
Thinking back to when they worked, was a godsend
Felt like they’d never let me fall

Now it’s on I swear I’ll never take this mask off
Got addicted to the feeling like I’m no one
After all of this mess comes said and done
There’ll be nothing left but smoke

Grinding down on my teeth now for two years
In the mirror my jaw locked in a grim sneer
So much darker than old woes, it’s a new fear
They’ll say we’re cursed, you know

With my brothers on the coast is where I belong
Out here in the Garden I don’t know what’s going on
Rolling around on my own for too long
At night is when feel it most

Sat in court waiting for the ‘Love you too’
Text never came, found my own way through
Heart grew harder with every sharp truth
Couldn’t find my way back home

I broadcast a plea in the dead of night
Lay myself bare for nobody to find
Beg for deafness, pray to be blind
Just want any kind of peace

Hope it’s not too dramatic, magnified
But my heart broke there when the magic died
Fell to my knees on the kitchen tiles
Couldn’t even speak it out loud

Like a kid finding out there’s no father christmas
while I try and be a good father in a crisis
Never dreamed that we could fall apart like this
Try and remember who we were

Can’t lose my family, won’t make a plan B
So when I’m passionate in counselling
Know that shit is all me
It’s really where I am

So though I know that the pain may never cease
I stay at home because I can’t face the release
But while you’re out searching for your inner peace
I’m here fighting for my life

Stronger men than me would turn away and hide
But I am not afraid of God, wherever he resides
I do not cower, I wear my heart outside
I walk on alone

“With 30 approaching last year I decided to start actually ‘publishing’ the scraps and shards of stuff I’ve been writing in pads rather than hoarding and picking over them for eternity. They’re not all fully formed but I think it will encourage me to be a bit more intentional about continuing if I have an audience (ain’t that always been the truth)”

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Cal W. Stannard

I write short stories, lyrics without songs, talk about music and mental health and share photography. “I speak that ugly elegant”