A three fold riddle for you;

1.
I have to check your lips are there,
have to stroke the indent of your hair,
tucked neatly into my shoulder.
I have to check,
have to ensure,
so that I am secure
that we will endure.
Be close to me my darling,
hold me tight,
tell me softly that we'll be alright.
Hold me close for all to see,
let them know that you define me.

2.
Are they looking?
Did they see that you are
now a part of me?
Did you check,
are you sure,
that they've acknowledged that
we are now more
than what they are.
They are alone but we are as one.
We will not be the lonely ones.
Shall we kiss and cuddle?
surely we should definitely snuggle.
Make noises,
coo,
squelch lips and see.
Now all of them wish to be we.

3.
I understand that you like each other,
I understand that you've chosen one another.
Yet do you have to rub it in?
Make cutsey faces, lust and sing
not two feet from my chair?
YES I PROMISE THAT I SEE YOU THERE.
I hear the kisses (do you really have to check?)
and purr out loud at the taste of her neck?
Entwined, as one, you're a right pair.
Just pack it in.
You shouldn't need the stare,
to justify why you are there.
please save it for outside,
or at least have the decency to try to hide,
your teenage lust so 'pure'...
how much more must I endure?

Wipe your eyes, crying child.
Shake loose the leaden legs,
once so full of life and vigour.
Fling off the shroud, you've
wrapped around your youthful face
of promise.

Wipe your eyes, crying child.
An adult now you are,
and un-allowed to halt when life
has knocked you down.
A cruel world my child,
but a real one.
A needed one.

Wipe your eyes, crying child.
Cease your searching for
the embrace you long to have
once more,
the impossible dream has
sailed away. Their boat has
left your shore.

Wipe your eyes, crying child.
Take again to the
stage which is your destiny.
Pick up your heavy mantle and
tip-toe forward to the light.
You cannot follow her there.

Wipe your eyes, crying child.
And fill them once more full
of life,
hope,
and mirth.
A part of you left beneath the earth.

I have a fear of drowning.
sounds random, I know, but
bear with me.
I'm not scared of the water,
it's a force too great to prompt
anything bar acceptance.
It's the suffocation part invokes
fear. Those seconds in which
you are in a trance
a state
of pure lack of control.
When emotion comes
in waves of confusion,
lapping you up and,
leaving you
desolate as the beach without
the shield of the sea,
baring it's naked underbelly to
the world.
I have a fear of drowning.
I am constantly afraid,
suffocating under the weight of
my own sea.

We both deserve this do we not?
This happiness all seem to seek.
I know you deserve it and yet, there's a rot,
when we attempt it whilst cheek to cheek.

Let go, my darling, be free as a bird,
you were not built to be tamed, or caged
such as this,
and if I were to have one wish,
just for for you,
it would be for that freedom,
your happiness,
your dream,
the key to your kingdom.

I've leant on you for strength I feel,
for long enough,
I've given you what I can,
we've braved times of rough.
So now it's time to move on,
continue with our plans.
Enough.

Like tree's our branches have weaved,
danced
and shared.
We've shared a life-force, you've proven you've cared.
But, to continue growing,
we must now grow
apart.
The memory of you, left in my heart.

This emptiness will follow me, wherever I do go.
No matter where or when or how I am,
I shall always carry this
weight,
This heaviness of heart which seeks to
define me.

I will never let it fully.

With every ounce, gram and molecule of my being
I will fight,
I will fight for my right to feel,
the right to love,
the right to live life as I wish,
mistakes and all.
However this 'baggage' is still
my own,
still
a part
of who I am to be.
So, you see,
if you choose not to accept that;
**then you choose not to accept me.

That wound, the
one you choose to hide,
will always be there.
come weeks,
come years,
come even decades.
It's scar will always remain.
Jagged on the palm of
your sleeve,
it may fade with
time
but it will always
be.
Forever ready to be
rubbed raw,
scarlet blood weeping
once again.

We all carry a scar
such as this.
It is a first and so,
it is the deepest.
The beginning of an
individual pattern.
It will sit there
ready,
waiting to bring again
your heart onto
your sleeve.

First love,
Pure love,
No more.

It will always be present.