Do you remember the night
I translated a dream for you?

You agreed and later that night
we began to put your pain into perspective

You're sending me letters
signed, sealed and delivered
from your new home

I'm saving all your letters
where only longing lingers
we've not known each other long
but waves of your scent
are already mapped on my mind

In your stories you write of
an explosion in your chest
bats burst from hibernation
forcing your ribs to break
your skin ripping apart

You tell me of a whistling in your chest
a candles been blown out
smoke rising from a darkened hollow cave

The emptiness feeds off flesh
you're scratching at your skin
the remains tipping into your chest

It's filling-
filling every day

And that is when you wake
choking, gasping for air

Your letters end as abruptly
as your night terrors
bad dreams leaving you breathless
waking up drenched in sweat

Your last lines of this weeks letter read;
When I lift my tired body
from the bed
the bedroom light illuminates
my skin
I see I'm real
I see I've not clawed my flesh
no track marks from my fears

We're sat together with
the letters all telling
the same story, again and again
you voicing your dreams,
dreams spawning nightmares

Do you remember I was going to
translate these dreams for you?

How the bats are actually butterflies
how butterflies are subjected to
a caged darkness before the light
How the whistling in your chest
is fertile ground for growth
How the suffocating filling
is the abundance of love
this world can give us
if,
if we only subject a change
to our perceptions

Love and fear cannot exist
together within us
with fear is suffering
with love is healing.

Do you remember the night
I translated a dream for you?

The night we set fire to the letters
imagining the crimping paper
as the disintegration of
each and every
fear.


© Sia Jane

Easy come, easy go
it hurts a bit more than a stubbed toe.
The hurt means I cared,
but I can't let getting hurt make me scared.
I have to believe
even if you all will call me naive,
that not everyone will leave
even if the notion, right now, is hard to conceive.
Easy come, easy go
you packed up and left, it was the end of our show.
But it's not the end of mine.
For one day, all my stars will align.
Everything will fall into place,
I won't have lies told straight to my face.
Easy come, easy go...
From this hurt, I know I'll grow.

On the day
she turned to dust
she asked the wind
to be her friend
and it picked her up
and ran her
through the fingers
of it's hands
and it poured her
into pockets
and whispered
to hold on
and before the
church had emptied
they were gone..

Off lone island bay,
Outlander waves are praying,
Curly in their white caps.

Cars and lorries are creeping
Into a village still sleeping,
Coming in from nowhere.

Stones have things to voice,
There are stars of rock fish
Deep in bays with the moon.

Beyond night dream are lochs,
Darks and colds of longings,
Mountains old as confusion.

Birds chime their mouth musics,
Churlishly sent over moorlands,
All questions ring unanswered.

On broke beaches are notions
Of days strung to faraways
And sands bleached ancestral.

Off lone island bay,
Simple comings, waves, goings,
After sly moon, sun has its say.

The last time I caught myself
was when I still counted the seconds.
The seconds between our words,
the seconds between your breaths,
The seconds between your replies.
and I'd obsess.
But a long time has passed
a year at that.
I'm no longer counting the seconds.
I'm no longer counting you.
The only counting i've done
is how many days we've been through.
Sometimes I skip a day
but i'd never skip the seconds.
I'm finally letting go
of my obsession.
It's not numerical.
It's not mathematic.
It's you
you've always been my bad habit.

Yesterday I was ready to
tell you, all about what I'd done
for you to see me
in the light of day

the real me, not
the one I paint of myself.
Today, the paints cover
the very cove my body is

its sheltered hollow
recesses, each nook
hiding the darkest parts
hiding who I truly am.

If the sea was to part, no
if you could part the sea for me
I could know to trust
you, but here I am

alone, lost in thought, scared
to even dare unfold my body.
That is the truth now
not tomorrows, not

yesterdays. Can I ask you
to come find me. I
know I'm remote. There's
a lighthouse by the shore.

You will see me there.
The truth is hard to bear
even for me, & I want
no stone unturned.                 © Sia Jane