adele horn

adele horn Jun 2010

i wrote you poetry
i applied my soul to your heart
i gave my body for you to bend
i gave you my left hand

if i never see you again
it will be too soon

if i forget your name
it will be memory well wasted

if i learnt my lessons well
it will be tears well shed

the brevity of you presence
is a speck in my life
and cannot undo
the luminesce of my colours

you will not be missed

adele horn May 2010

i have the courage to say

I would never have imagined
That such an unassuming affection
Could become something
I can treasure deeply

I would never have thought
That a shattered heart
Could turn towards you
And find solace there

I would never have assumed
Safety within your arms
And a quiet place
To rest my soul

I would never have expected
Anything more than frienship
But my heart wanted more
And you allowed me in.

Thank you
For casting light upon my abyss
For lending me warmth
And a place where my hands fit into yours.

I am swayed by uncertainty every day.
In myself
In you
In the world that surrounds us.
But i am certain
That your smile is a constant within the choas.

I dare say
That i love you
Because my heart is filled with it.
And i cannot lie to myself.

adele horn May 2010

honesty might not be the best policy

i say nothing.
cause i know its safe.
i do nothing,
cause i know its better.

you poke and urge,
pulling at the thread you spy.
and when i unravel,
you are angered by the mess.

i cower,
because i know.
i expect what im used to.
i strike out,
its in my nature.
eyes wide with what ive done.

a silence is what i allways return to.
a void left by my voice.
my words.
my honesty.

i cannot play the game,
i dont know how.
i speak my own language,
and i know,
you hate its sound.

so now.
can i expect grace?
understanding
compassion.

compassion.....?

do i start the old ritual,
of collecting memories.
in anger
in rejection
in knowing
that i wasnt enough.

deposit them at your door,
and hope for a smile.

adele horn May 2010

little gifts

there's something dead,
under my bed.
it's two am.
it could be a rat,
a bat or a bird.
or possibly all three.

there's something dead,
under my bed.
and its starting to smell.
i cant get to sleep,
so up i get,
and get ready for war.

there's something dead,
under my bed.
and as i suspected.
a head, a foot,
a dried up *****,
what's left of a little snack.

there's something dead,
under my bed.
there is a graveyard,
of critter corpses,
of feather and fur,
collecting in the bin.

there's something dead,
under my bed.
i dont even need to look.
the deep red drops,
on the floor,
lead directy to ****** scene.

adele horn Apr 2010

dead honesty

on my island
he looks into my eyes
and tells me he loves me.
on my island
he makes love to me
and its not just ***
on my island
he dreams of me in white
and calling me wife
on my island
he wonders how he can make me happy
beyond dinner or lunch
on my island
he is proud of me
as his partner, not his friend
on my island
his parents like me
and even know my name
on my island
he looks at houses as he drives by
and imagines us living there
on my island
there are no maybes

but there is no island
there is no dream
there is no feeling other than this

how do arrange this
so my heart understands

adele horn Apr 2010

gag order

my apparent joy at being with you
is dragged under by my questions.
their significance
their insistance
i know
are taboo.

dare i ask
what now?

what am i to you
other than a friend
with benefits.

you lavish upon me
love in front of friends
and yet you said
you said....

i want to say,
those words.
i bite my tongue often.
******,
it should be easy.

will you ever speak the words i want to hear?
can i push at this bubble,
and it not burst the serenity we created?

i cannot look at you,
too hard.
i dont want to fall,
too hard.

your honesty is brutal.

you set the president
if i dont like it,
i can leave.
or so it feels.

can i be honest?
for just one second.

i love you.

adele horn Apr 2010

effing *******

you take the the money i sweat blood for
pry the coins from my starved fingers
shake my pleas from your pant-leg
as you walk away flipping the papers.

i talk endlessly to paralysed specialists
i type to infinity about the injustice of it
i threaten and shout
i worry and budget even tighter

i am the nothingness
greasing the cogs of your profit
with the blood of my suffering
my bones the pillars of your success.

*******
MTN
I will chain my body
to the doors of your evil abode
and not move untill i am appeased!!