Jarring – Written Sunday 14th February 2026 (Aged 50)

Jarring

Sensitivity
jars me.
I wonder,
where does it fit in?
Restlessness
is something
on which I cling.
I do not know
anymore
what —
what I am meant
to be.
Perhaps
the years
are running away
with me.
It could be
that my hope
is way out
to sea.
Oh,
how did I become this,
and how
I end up
feeling like this?
A kind
of indecision
that descends
like a clinging
mist.
Sensitivity,
people’s expectations —
I play out
the scenes.
as I bend and twist

James Garratt – Sunday 14th February 2026

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