are we defined
by tragedy?
only thing tying us together
is my desire to be called
we.

Below
This Selfish
Side Lined Smile
Lies A Deep Jealousy
Harbouring A Distance Untamed, Untraveled
But
Don't Worry
Although It Festers
Just Beneath My Skin
Never Shall You Feel It
Inescapable.

saw             a                smile
caught on the c h a n n e l s
of the WiFi
like      w a v e s                    goodbye

…………something about an end. the scope of things together. in the spiral you’re still connected to the beginning. I’m still here just falling. rewrapping the ugliness of hurt. kissing my knuckles. pushing against gravity. elbows and toes buried. in my latest growth-spite. the line drawn under  unconnected. a context of embarrassment. remember the rule about tying loose ends. speak into my night light. scratch out a chance.  take refuge by the windowsill. the downpour whispered its precedence. he’s out there. drowning standing up. our bedroom. the thunder failing to tick over. lightning like a flinch. hands in hands in gaps. i wonder if the rain knows it might not end. wonder if i might not too……………….

is spending more time
waiting than moving,
living?

If so:

is spending more time
remembering than making,
mourning?

so in my spare time
after a days studying
i stand on the pulpit
and talk to an empty room
shouting into the corners all the words i have written for people
who are not listening

like therapy i record these speeches
and play them back to remind me of the flow
of words
that could fill chalkboards whiteboards and lecture notebooks
but carry no weight

sometimes pray that the room is being captured
so someone can tell me to go
or perhaps the security guard finds some satisfaction
in seeing a heart unable to say no

There is little I wouldn't do.
For

falling asleep
with your scent as my blanket
your chest my pillow
and your breathing my lullaby

Yes.
There is little I wouldn't do.

forgive me for the sins
i did not make.
let me repent
for some other souls sake.

Do you think logically
or logistically?
Cause it seems to me
Love,
has no place in your vocabulary.

Yet your bank balance expands,
as does the gap
in our bed.

Put my money to my mouth                                                you said.
                                                                    Where

It should of been I love you                                                  instead.

The Sun tells nothing but the truth.
Rays, unabashedly reveal and revel
in their (apparent) straight simple beams.
Basking and baking any unlucky-lucky soul,
Caught in the radiating pathway.

With a touch that grants,
bronzing berift of bruising.
In reality grants us sight
Welcomed by all but few,

And my word.         What a view.

all routes lead to the homes made in passing.

i am unable to recreate your smile.

all peaks have views wishing to be seen.

you do not want to be looked for.

                 *I will live a half-life

Maybe a love poem for you's
too cliché.
(but I'll still do one anyway.)
Cause even though you hate it-
we both know you'll admit
(That maybe this ain't so bad)

to hold you between the gaps
of my fingers
escaping the love songs
from my throat
that I didn't know were there
till you told me it was time to go.
then the drum starts
its beat behind our eyes
our lacking tongues
that fail to formulate
this feeling
which is slowly escaping
my grasping hands.

The plan was plain.
Me the bait, and you'd take aim.
I doubt there was hatred
when you shot him dead
cause even the worst emotions can't pass
a bullet to the head.
Bam!
Ivory concave called a face, split
revealing drenched red teeth-all due
to some petty thief.
Darkness dazzled briefly
as the the muzzle embers burnt out neatly.
That was that, to you. A crime
No more, till we saw the carcass slump to the floor. In our minds, dreams-years to come.
But a trigger pulled can never be undone.
The haunting ain't the issue, don't worry.
But here's the thing.
The barrel of a gun is one big ring.
A cycle of death- cruel merry go round.
But we're both still waiting
waiting for that sound.
Bam!

i will lay kisses
upon your chest
to understand what it means
to speak from the heart.

(please never stop beating.)

sometimes all there isn’t ;
is us.
and that’s ok.

i found myself
at 3am.
            He was not the same person
            as before.

**and I wonder if that's a loss or a gain.

it seems that all Love is,
is finding the snippets of those who once
we adored
in the bodies of strangers and hoping
this time it will be reciprocated.

6am mornings
With little to truly say,
so let's lie here waiting
For the sun to slip away.

i broke the bed
that wasn't made
for me
and you tell me how funny
a story it will be
for others to laugh at
to laugh at the loving me.

Never ending days
vs
Never ending nights
pose an interesting quandary;

Would you rather:
See
or
Dream

Eternally?

i am envious of your
ability to not hear the hope
in my words
and
jealous
of the resolve in your disdain.

i could never feel nothing.
but sometimes wish i would.

in a savoury dream;
we'd of been together.

in a sweeter dream;
we'd of been forever.

but in this bitter reality
were we meant to sever?

We lasted 10 months
to the dot.
it seemed almost comical
how a relationship
could be so self contained.
i wondered-
looking at the freckle on the flat of your hand
whisky coloured on the smooth brown expanse—
if giving too much was really a problem I’d have to solve by myself.
the redlines we’d both crossed
reappeared in your eyes
i couldn’t understand where the stress the pressure summoned itself
begging to blow you up
but I could understand your hopelessness when you said you don’t want me to disappear.

it was only after that early morning walk to Starbucks together where
for fear of
wasting a weekend of sun
mourning
us
i debased myself
holding your hand, putting you piggyback  and running
like if i could make it to the finish line you’d give me a consolation prize and take me back.

watching videos in your halfway home
feeling your heartbeat
slow in my arms
believing it meant
this coldness was going to
melt away and
we’d rematch and be free

Until you spoke so casually
about the life you’d now get to live
unbound & free
the tautness of my heart
snapped me back to reality
cursing until my tears choked me.

i remember
packing myself away
you standing over me asking

“How are you feeling?”

like a taunt
with my fingers
grasping through the clothes
I brought to spend
in the sun
pushed to the back of
the suitcase
I stood and
unleashed all the truths
and half truths
and lies
unspooled
months
of love
in moments
to try to leave you
scarred and raw;

“you never loved me you never meant it really you want to be free you aren’t sick you don’t want to be my friend you don’t know what you want you were lying to me and now you wont even fight for me”

but you stood glacial -
and I realised it  -
was hopeless you had already moved on -
and all ive done was -
sentence myself to exile -

After you stumbled down
not so many steps
Tongue searching for the words,
to chain me to its depths.
I won't lie.                          I saw (no. you knew.) where this was heading.

Before your lazy lounging around
and lackluster laugh
finally losing its lustre.
Truly your falseness was found.

Now your distant happiness
heralding our own end.
No longer seeking your "loving" caress
not willing to pretend.
  
                                                   That we were (in fact) meant for more.

I am..... Was...
Something, something, someone.
So many names, places and so many faces
so many. So many....
Seeking
I am.... Was....
Seeking peace, my peace,
your peace, our peace.
Please.
I lost you. Didn't I?                                                  (Didn't I?)

time can lighten the crushing loss of another.

you passed by the river
and the reflection was cast on
my curve of bank.
the current
lost it’s strength at the mouth
like words whispered in defeat.
were it not for my knowledge
of those who have drowned
i would be breathing the reeds and water
and beating against the overflow.
i think it’s human nature
fight for something
for the only thing we know.

Is this what love is?
Red marks and lines,
puncture points, hands never being held.

Is this what love is?
21:00 chuck out time sitting with Dusk on welcome mats
ringing a doorbell unsure if it's heard
or just ignored

Is this what love is?
Mirrors are mouths, speaking after-images into words
This isn't what love is.
or perhaps this love was made just for me
*Alone.

You were Sheet music.
or Braille.
or Latin.
Indecipherable surface level:
Tension, felt through the page.
Slowly the notes unwound,
then
bumps in the story smoothed out,
leading
to me finally understanding what tense we were in.

And i would Relearn all of You;
in a Heartbeat.