You said that you didn't believe in anything,
but that you believed in me.
In truth, I believe in you more than I say.
I see more in you than I say.
When you fight me, fight so hard against hope, I see you.
I do not know what you have been through.
I do not know what has been done to you.
I do not know how to tell you
that your belief in me
means more than
the fire on your tongue,
or the laughter in your eyes,
or the darkness that you draw from me.
Though you do not apologize with words
you do
with softness in your eyes,
and the brush of rough fingers against my arm in passing,
the curve of my neck lovingly sketched with graphite,
You say that you would die for me,
but I do not want you to.
I would have you live,
vibrant and happy,
laughing,
the bottle lying forgotten in a corner,
your hand in mine,
breathing in the scent of turpentine;
because I would like to believe in us.

As I started a journey through me,
Into me!
I traveled through some meadows; I traveled through some wild,
I traveled through deserts & islands, so mild!
I traveled in dark, I traveled in light,
I traveled through weakness and moments of might!
Anxious to know the end of my journey,
I crossed all landscapes of my mind,
Like it were a euphonious symphony!

I traveled far, I traveled again and I traveled far & I traveled again!
Much lost in the vanity of my thoughts, I wandered naively like a child in pain!
I stopped my mind to wonder why!
Like I was nowhere in the middle of the sky!
The moment I stopped was the moment I knew,
I travelled through everything, yet through nothing
For the path I travelled defined me truly to the world, yet not unto me.
.
.
Hence I start the journey again, now deeper than farther,
Beyond thoughts, to that depth
When one day, I shall define myself, unto me!

You started to leave as the cold nose of Winter
bulldozed through Guy Fawks skies
and Christmas silent nights.

Your nearness was a far plane
of slumped reflection, deliberation,
contemplation of your plight, so mine.

Suspicion stirred in morning tea
and pre-work niceties.
You watched me when I turned my back,
your head buried in the ‘Daily Mail’,
too close to the print.

Denial hugged me a long while, dismissing
the cosseted phone and obsessive hygiene.

Giggling-head days, home-fire Wednesdays,
pledges in sweat daze
all rolling around
on a distant carousel.
I hoped you could see,
but hope could not override
your turning tide.

Your eyes begged for the ‘talk’,
so you could bring it up
like rancid *****.

Coward

You left in a yellow haze with the daffodils,
and I hated you

with all the love anyone could imagine.

If you wait at the edge of the ocean
You give every bottle at sea a purpose
every message that was written
you are what they put hope in

*if you're feeling like nothing and want to be more
go to the water and wait by the shore