Climate breakdown, or how net zero 2050 feels this Thursday morning

this mask of pain
is just my face
when the daily silence
of the fire beneath our feet

jaw jacked wide
tears spurting like an amputation
now I can’t stand
stomach punched
bowing, broken at the knees
sinking, life collapsing, twisting as a helix

but you
you’re wrapped, strapped
to my chest
holding you, I have to hold you
can’t fall into a foetal position

don’t wake now
my arms around you
the only strength I have
swallow down these choking howls
can’t let you see or hear

I let it in
have little choice
but this feels more real
than the noise

and then it’s passed
I wipe my face
back to the morning rising

nappy changes
pouring brexit into bowls
taking out the bins
on my bike
leaving who I love for another day
at the coalface of LEDs

Written in the early hours of Thursday 13 June 2019, reflecting on the announcement that the UK will adopt a net zero target of 2050.