Colours have faded
off the walls
but the walls remain.

pictured him walking away,
from the start,
they seldom stay...

But here I am,
reasoning his need
to not.

.

Now
as I try
to look beyond the sting welling up again,
You recede.

.

Why
are you explaining?
Now?

It was a night without fire,
without fights,

I had those tears
pushing me
towards my own sympathy
I'd cried all my feelings
without you,
How
I'd never felt so emotional
with you
I question,
whether you were just a blur,

All I wanted then
was just for you to come to me
and hush me back to where we started, fresh;
Now
I want a shelter
remote and distant from fresh
If that's where we started.

.

A cluster of breaths

Cold feet,

I'm still,
Holding
And hoping to pass on.

.

.


My ears still find their way
near mouths
who are likely to label me
as Beautiful,

Somehow
their opinion
makes it
more real;
believable,
I doubt my own sincerity
Am I not bound to be
partial
to myself?

Am I?
When half the time
I'm not myself
at all.

.

.

As I cried
and cried
and cried,

I longed to bleed
the words
poisoning
the tip of my tongue
till within,

As I wrote
and wrote
and wrote,

The tears had
faltered
sighed
and
settled,

Perhaps
poetry held me up
when I was
most alive,
And it still
carries me on
as I break and shed.


.