I listen to them as they mouth your name;
and I see
how enchanted and consumed
they talk of your ways and,
how the stars in their pupils beam with a radiance of such pure awe.
Your words hang loose off the tops of their tounges and their lips drool in your glaze.
Your lazy features, your so electric but so infuriating charm -
sends them mindless, locks them in your illusion.
So it’s then
I try to burn every
sheet of paper which ink prints your presence,
inside these desperate shelves which fold upon each heartstring.
My ears attempt to block it out.
Instead they replay every song
that has ever left your lips.
And my eyes deceive me as they scatter
a particle of you on every surface of life I encounter.
My mind echoes every laugh you created in my streams.
Then I paint every colour you ever erupted within me,
in thick black.
As they mouth your name,
every trace of you with anyone but me,
causes my hands to pull through my gut,
and hammer down any of these ******* deceptive daydreams
that you have me trapped me in.
And then so easily, one by one,
debris of my heart crumble like rain
down your window,
down each vein.
1 March 17:03
look at them all
These nights I pretend to myself
and whisper to myself that
maybe he knows love
pretend you know love;you don’t.
you are confused why he still pervades you.
what you say in your head isn’t spiralling there alone.
maybe it spirals him too
But I am told that
God calls lying an evil sin.
And through Eden,
God tried to say to the world -
that lust is demolishing.
( but who is god to say)
it’s all so beguiling
and god yes it’s demolishing,
when reality resurrects every day and I am
thrown to watch it before me
even if I close my eyes
or bite my tongue till blood.
only the lying evils sins I whisper
will wipe the blood clean.
I don’t think god runs this place
who is he to judge
tonight when I fled from my cage,
I was secluded from my own head because
all it called upon was you. echoing and echoing.
like a mother aches for her lost child
gnawing the skin on my fingertips
rustling the ends of my hair into knots
biting numbingly into my tongue
all so nonchalantly
like a fool.
who is so simply chasing his own tail
in circles and circles and circles and just such endless cycles
until they send themselves to sleep
there was just this endless river of words that had just been so congested inside of me and I don't know why last night it all came spewing out
bathing myself in this thirsting quench
and now I’ve come to see you
as a drug. a pill.
but not prescribed.
Staring blackly at me
on my bedside table
and it’s teasing me.
teasing me with the sugar cane
that erupts when it skims my tounge -
alluring my own deception with your
that unravels it’s way down my whole
voice until there’s none left.
And its just the way it sets me so ablaze
that I cremate casually in your
Knuckles clench to restrain that
sentiment that nostalgia
that world that lies behind your door I always see myself
linger through ghostly.
I’ve never been
my urge my battle to stop myself from you
I’ve come back to this a soldier,
the blood you extracted from my body
now smeared stripes on my cheekbones.
But buckle in.
Do I really need?
A bullet proof vest inches thick. Barricades my bones
and sewn into the bones of my torso with hope.
but that’s only for in case you shoot me, again,
in the left chest.
- then that’s only if you become the target. if you whisper your vulnerability into his eyes, again. and stand hopeless before it all.
No I cannot bare it one more time.
He never seen me hospitalised in the bed of a room so empty. ( a mind so empty, numb)
So abandoned the nurses had left.
So abandoned I was the nurse the doctor the therapist the healer.
Doctor barely retrieved blood
Nurse barely rose me back to my feet
Therapist didn’t give forget. wouldn’t let me forget - what about it I loved because he had never found it in me.
Then I am reminded again.
- so soldier buckle up the bare skin that can so easily be burned. buckle up in black.
I wear it in fear hesitation ilness and resentment to a repeat.
- better off safe than sorry
But safe now becomes a sorry to the soul for restraining.
As if I’m going to wash my sins,
by finding a substance so viscous - to annihilate the acid
that seeps through me.
Perhaps it’s you refilling my first glass,
which is dried up by 11,
and replenished by 5 past.
Must I keep forcing it down my refusing gut,
so I can bare the stutter drooling,
crumbling, out your teeth.
Till I’ve sipped needlessly on your lies
and fell drunken on your delusional fables.
Now I’m slurring in my nights,
awoke, still high on your acid.
Eyes are bulging, bloodshot
from you firing bullets of your decaying burden.
As I walk I stumble,
diverging around solum streets.
Crows peck at my skin, to prompt me at sunrise.
Now and again I revisit
the morsels I had collected from the bottom of your chalice.
Savouring as I gulp down my regret.
Desperately urging to be hungover your reveries
one last time.
11 April, 00:31
I’m preparing myself for it all one day
all this time
my back was turned to your face.
I walked only on the paths that ran
anti-parallel to yours.
my hands grazed before me on the stone,
naked knees were scuffed and skin ragged
lugging myself along the grounds
as I crawled forlorningly away from you.
when honestly, the only destination
that I ever intended to arrive to,
was your arms.
avoiding for my own protection, so I wouldn't end up hurting myself. I know you never would intentionally. you are too gold
A black is wading with my blood
it’s no longer red.
You’ve left me here to heal with wounds raw open.
Left me to love without showing me what it was
( remember I can only learn from demonstration)
And left me to cry without any more salt tears - because you drank the rest after dinner.
Now I spends days with a knife inbetween my sweet fingertips
searching for the blood, that you have left me without.
I search kitchens for a substance so overpowering
that it will strip my insides bare and wash them clean of your toxins that have spilled in places I can’t reach.
Then find me caved in this void
where I pull the trigger at my head (metaphorically)
countless times a day until my stupid thoughts leak out
and drip onto the puddles.
and all that turmoil inside pours down me,
showering me in your illnesses.
Lights are put out by the last exhales I breathe.
you winded my lungs out of use and now I sit in dark.
I’m barricaded in deafened voices
which I do not hear over your
Hands are worn numb
from ripping up pages which have your name imprinted on each line in fantasies.
Senses drunk from words you forced to run down my throat and my body is flooded by your lips and I find myself bent over,
vomiting the **** you fed me.
In bed I’m cradling myself to sleep in peices.
Don’t you dare let me see you
in a dream tonight.
A let go
leave it like this
sign a name then scribble it from existing;
Blood was shed and blindness almost enshrouded in the making,
the blank ink reminds me of the feeling
With this pen and I swam in lyrics that I tried to climb into, they never seemed to fit - lose weight. ok,
and sweet dreams I injected like heroine into my head; yes they had done the worst to me but alas, that’s addiction:
one never fears the desire because the greed is fuelled in return with the buzz (hope,worth,purpose?something/one).
Gambling; waste my wealths (worth,time) upon it to only taste failure before me each time, but always return slowly because “a time will come” - to win; I haven’t yet.
do you wish that sometimes they told you dont give up, without “don’t”?
slap reality across your right cheek that burns red in naivety.
We would dance until the ground was no longer at our soles,
when we would float in a trance of sheer naive
in the palms of death’s hand. slightly teasing.
Grasping vestal youth in our hands with
cigarettes in our fingertips.
Empty glistening bottles, left smashed on begging turf
whilst the substances slur inside minds.
Fallen drunken on the night’s moonlit whispers,
delusional romances, and unpromising fantasies.
The gasoline drooled out his hand needlessly.
It glazed the grass guilty
when we kissed it’s tips with a lighter.
its then those fantasies engulfed the air in illuminations of blaze
then creeping thick grey
and ceased to ash.
Death gently blew the ashes to the river
and kissed us goodnight.
- though now we are still dancing in our circle.
we light it all on fire again
to disintegrate new dreams
9 June , a story, my own fantasy
you hold my vulnerability at gun point
and I've felt you collide your tips with the trigger,
so very many times.
but its all just so helplessly beautiful
that I never refuse the bullet
Blindness bright emerging
You catch me, a deer in the headlights.
of your headlights - head-lights
but the blue ones - that linger in two on your face.
the ones I let myself see rarely
the crystal ones that I swim in
amongst a daydream. that sometimes I drown into.
You brake as your presence ****** the surface of my skin.
didn’t mean to bump that polished shine on your car.
(Your teeth are shining)
Brake, the gears,
whilst I’ll waver on further,
back to my subtle distance muted in the dark.
sorry I’ll go faster. return faster to where I was heading,
before your lights outshine my being.
See me run back to shadows under dulling streetlights -
before I let those headlights consume me whole in blaze.
Look then I’m gone, unharmed.
So go, continue with your ride. I’ve left you untouched
forget it. maybe until next time.
when perhaps I’ll want to play real victim of a crashing collision.
as I crossed the road
Mental health; mental wealth.
It’s riches you spend on your armour when in battles with demons,
to come out the other end bruised but not defeated.
The weath in within the gold mines in your head that the demons dig upon,
though still you find golden flakes on the surface of your palms.
That you spend your wealth on others, to save them from the debt you fear to suffer again. As you rust.
Wealth is the riches you still hold, when the demons strip you bankrupt.
you are rich, for you are still here.
October 10 23:25
we pursue to confess sins that
have not been sinned.
rather than repent to ourselves
to bathe and soak in guilt that lurks amongst blood.
It’s okay if it keeps you awake
but sins is nothing but a disguise we put on ourselves
when we feel
that we have wronged the world.
We never do.
what was I chasing, that had the audacity to burn fires that haunt the neighbours. that put the car on running when I was off, eyes dreaming - the wheel slipping off my palms. and then over a cliff into ocean.
maybe so. maybe it was you. maybe so. maybe I am blind
and slowly, sparsely
it’s fading away from me how it feels to
to be burrowed into the night’s portal of regret and despair and urge to escape.
and to write even,
and to see life pass by with a name intertwining each of its pieces.
in whole all I can say is maybe it isn’t so extreme but
when the heart aches it is drowned down below you and drips out salt from your eyes until the cries can’t go unnoticed ;
it’s challenging to sleep.
on the other hand for now my sleep is whole and I dream often
to begin the year
January 3 2019 , 1:20am
he splits the world into two
half into illusions, spells of daydreams. coated in love stories and poetry. sprinkled in lustful gazing.
other half, the dawning reality of the nothingness that has so many pages. I flip through needlessly to try understand it all . I never do. I try to pull my head out of clouds, I never can.
its not real it won’t ever be
1:43 after seeing reality
you have me *******
in knotted knots.
you are so naughty
my head was flipped
Stop being such a cacti.
I’m only trying to move you into sunlight,
to let you learn, grow.
You were such a cacti
because you peirced me with your blunt needle.
yet I still bled,
because it still peirced me through, and skimmed my bloodflow.
I didn’t cry
because I realised that is just simply you.
You were such a cacti
when I tried to water you, my dear.
I only wanted to keep you alive
keep you radiating.
Keep you, as you.
your dagger imapled me.
From my finger and gushed into my left chest.
I now understand you
because you won’t hesitate to grow without my nurture,
and won’t hesitate to peirce with my love.
14 November, night
It’s the thought of your cigarette smoke.
Which cracks through the gaps in your teeth,
and into the hollows of your lips -
becoming so coarse because they are soft.
Clouds of your grey
pollute my eyes.
And you hide behind it until
it has threaded through my every pore
and into my tongue as I swallow into my gut.
I savour as if it was you that I inhaled.
I drown in that somber ocean
of your lighter in the side pocket of your trench,
and the packet which you dig from out your jeans.
As you breath
smoke flows into my ear - pollutes them
With late nights you spend alone.
A half dry pen on tea stained paperd notebooks
that are buried under paperclips and mangled headphones.
The sound as you force, pelting creased paper into the fire.
and tears which drip out onto your sweater.
and echoes of dying guitar strings
that can no longer bare the abuse you show them these nights
when the words and notes won’t kiss.like you want them to.
As it drips down through my gut
I taste the rasp smell of your cologne in the morning
after the rain wastes it off in the morning.
Along with the taste of salt that you drench every word in.
The smoke evaporates from my view.
I stare at your bones glowing under an orange street light..
Your eyes hollow,
eaten up by the shadows and I wonder
if you are in front of me.
Or if I only recognised the familiar grey clouds
- that once hid my blue sky.
9 February, 23:04
I think march has returned though it snows outside I can hear you outside and I’m slurring forgetting my senses and ignorant to the truth you posses; pretending it could be but would never be because this
is me forever.
unrequitedunrequitedunrequited; get it tattoed on me it will make no alteration because I can face it everyday needlessly.unrequited you are silenced from the rest. In the movie you are the fool and unrequited you are unvisible/invisibe.no one cares to correct you for spelling because everyone forgets to read or write. As have you so what has drawn you back here; to march?
maybe she missed her letdown glazing her tear fire maybe she missed how the pen and the dark proved a healer and wanted to feel saved again from a nightmare.
2:50 am hello an old friend I was empty for a while but the silenced night let me into this again
There was always this box hidden under his bed.
One day he fled, and she crawled,
slicing it out from curtains of webs
and wrenched it out of the hands of his secrets.
Inside she discovered her heart, raw
from when he last yanked it out from her.
Veins, nerves unattached
to fool her from feeling,
to engrave his own illusions into her head.
Now she’s cradling it so tenderly.
Rinsing off his fingerprints with her tears.
Occasionally learning how to ***** it back in.
3 April 00:12
He’s been gone for a while now,
trying to regain myself
but that feeling had lost me some time ago now.
but yet,I had missed the innocent despair of hopelessness;
it just coincides so perfectly with the isolated night.
13 jan 22:59
it’s the strung of the first few seconds. open a portal to when these words swarmed like flies in delusion, whithering onto your name spelt on my phone. Whisking dreams in my head. I should have turned off the light, dimmed the hope; so that they would fly away.
I hold the song in my palm as if an artifact. funny as I go to write artifact my keyboard suggests artificial as if it knows
because that’s what it was and that’s it raw. and as for me it was me who tied ribbons around the lyrics to be a certification of us that never was. it was the only part of you I could ever have when I was alone because who was I to treat you like a friend when everyone was your friend.
I’ve untied ribbons and stepped back, so far back that I have reached a time before I had known you or before I had claimed you in my mirage.
apart from tonight I gues
1:57am can’t help what’s there it’s stuck in my throat see I thought I would let some tears roll but reality didn’t let me
nurtured in the arms of another's.
birthed in homes inside their minds,
and told to stay low
told we have wings -
not told to use them.
because they might fail us.
our dreams might fail us.
so our sight blocked, to only the
array of sunset.
we sleep through sunrise
- at least they do.
but see we,
we await, we wait until the
sun breaks way,
swallow the waves
eat another into oblivion.
whisked together as the sun turns to us
when she tires from her previous scene
she livens at us.
do not anticipate until she bares full.
do not hesitate until she kisses your iris to black.
fly out to her
and see if wings dissolve like we were told they would.
see if you are dreaming
discover if you are awake.
feel how close to death you are
taste it, but swallow your presence.
when she begins to melt you.
remember that they told you that burns will ****.
who told you the sun will ****** our home, when her end comes.
fear not. fear is your friend.
the sun knows she can impale you so
deep with radiance.
but do not fear,
because last night was when you dreamt of the sun -
and now is when she killed you.
because you were too near.
to the dream.
to follow them will thrill.
and **** once you love them
but what won't ****.
so visit the sun if you dream of her
let your dreams burn you.
because at least you tasted them.
before you contemplate that sharpened knife,
that is not ****** to other skin
- and sensually slit me open
from the neck.
my last tears that dilute with red will
vainly stain your pail shirt.
let me diffuse through your cold skin
so the knife that hovers above me
won't erase my trace.
staring at this mirror
I feel you approach at my shadow
trailing the knife.
my time cut short.
to save my guts from splitting,
I purge out all your substance that I had consumed.
with it, out came the bottled voice you raided me for
every night when you were dry with thirst.
eyes whisper to mine
that this wasn't your intent.
but I disagreed when red ran down my spine
he dug gold,
fresh out of her heart
until her bones were left shrivelling,
by stenching coal.
her mines grow empty,
though he returns on a blue moon
in attemp to shovel out any last morsels.
clinging onto their cave by bare strength.
love she supports her souls with will not be sufficient I think someone must tell her truth that she is suffering alone and quiet. I think it’s time someone turned the lights off in the daylight and left her put in the dim dark of the orange street lights transparent through the window when the street lies asleep and she releases her songs to the paper and her heart can rest and she can erase stupidity hilarity from her show and perhaps stay silenced for a while until she can speak what the street lights hear when the neighbours sleep.
when this happens it seems eveyone became deaf
but how can I get your hands
to take a match and strike it before me.
then your alight contours can dissolve
once you fling the matchstick down my throat.
I hope it catches onto this bloodstream of your soul
so it turns to ashes
that I’ll puff out -
the way you would smoke under those streetlights.
then I’ll melt every words of yours,
once engraved into my mind
with the numbing vision
of you with her.
and lastly, cool me down
- just finish me off.
plunge my skins into the
deepest point of the ocean,
so that I’ll wake up in an ocean without you.
my sleepless goodbye to you
tied by a rock her heart sunk to the bottom of the seabed.
it decayed for a time and it whithered amongst reflections what lingered in the waters.
one morning she cut loose
but no longer could float.
jan ‘17 adaptations
After showering myself in needles
and stitching my wounds open with my self appointed meds
I plastered up my tear ducts. It seems.
my rivers are droughts
my heart at thirst.
I’ve scrubbed hard enough
to uncover your name needled black
inside my index below my chest and on the tail of my ear.
how have you not mentioned you as an artist?
Such an artist that
what you engraved is temporary,
whilst I don’t recall the needle broke into my skin
If only I was there
to sneak in during the AM of closed windows.
and kiss the glass floors with gasoline
and glaze it with honey
and then perhaps drop my match alight.
To see your world dissolve
feel you burn, -as I did
and watch you turn to ashes at my feet. -Like you didn’t.
So I can kneel at the end
to blow your dust from my skin.
. rather than lugging round
a crisp coated burnt out heart. - That you made
that now fears
to play with fire.
next time when
the sky dawns when sun sets when the stars spill and one day in which its not pervading me over. life again you will have. one you had before my own time ascended. we can walk past each others life as humans. the name will fade from song lyrics, the face from the blackness. I will be empty because there won't be any more lies to binge.
I budge your arm off my body and your shattered on the carpet. tomorrow you will be so ****; an old acquaintance.
the nights alone, spent lurking.
swimming in another man's souled voice.
is when I apologise for the aching marks I bruise upon myself.
because I've rinsed my heart, clenching my fists.
then ringed it out until there are no senses to swallow
the desperate urge for pain,
from someone else.
to numb the knife of loneliness
which I caress in the dark, then slit.
then I dance this pen,
until it's ink recklessly glides upon bare lines that
pleaded desires sing for pain.
to wipe off this blood, that won't dry
until it has someone to scar for.
but again I'll still stay slicing.
blaming ghosts, dreams, hallucinations.
to wound up isolation.
choke out any last lingering tears
to dilute the escaping blood
in attempt to stain.
to remind me,
that I hurt for something.
You build a garden,
a rose is planted - the most beautiful flower
a tiger is born - the most beautiful cat
tiger tears eats destroys the rose’s petals
she is bare.
rose grows thorns , will she scare?
she’s too beautiful to stand there alone to the tiger
he pervades her bloom, until she has flourished a spectacle
his teeth caress those petals to shreds
her thorns, pierce his mouth,
out pour all sorts of reds.
they live beautifully and painfully in one another
00:18 October 11
An essence of pain through each beauty
stop watering it,
these roots are getting flooded and they have no life to withstand.
please don’t let any more words
drop out your sweet tongue,
my insides are expanding in agony.
this seed you planted,
I built a fence to protect it from your rain
so it may slowly die.
yet life has broken into it,
and the wind was screaming last night.
I didn’t realise until now.
until I came to find your walls were shattered,
and to my realisation my fence was melted.
that’s when the pain has began
leaking into each vein and intertwines around their blue tunnels.
I am sick at the thought.
these roots stream into my nerves,
closing my sleep, my words
as I only inhale yours through my pipe.
then engulfing this seed
that seems to shoot further up me,
when you are furtherst away.
25 February midnight
this was what you once felt to me
perhaps I had found you on the other end of oceans;
with pens in your hand of our embrace under stars.
alas, when that star fell the other night; we pushed it. slightly.
you could say that
she is the moon that hides in daylight’s glory.
the moon at night when you see no other light.
the torch on your phone when it was late and alone.
But she was
silenced by your presence
awake by your absence.
you are the words flouncing out her hands
shapes from her pencil.
music when you were bored of speech.
direction when you glanced at a compass.
a match you sparked when you lost your lighter but needed smoke.
she will be his sun in the morning
stars at night.
for you will be her eclipse when she wanted less light.
November 14, night
I take I’m saving these tears for when you strike me full
and it’s you at the other line of the song once the words thread through.
When I’m on my knees, left scrubbing you off of me. Washing you out with rivers of piano chords and trembling voices - that haunt me of you
which smear the floor black.
Your mess overturned as you slip out.
I cry for the love I cried to show you.
I had left myself open for you, my doors were slammed shut in weakness by your hands withering to push it back.
6 April 00:05
All along it’s only me trying to keep myself away
your eyes blank with the dimming grey
of the cigarette that you dreamt you held now.
even if it blacks and barricades
your last air - in your last lungs.
Because it’s saving you from your
void into reality.
now the smell of pain’s smoke,
gnaws into the walls of the room you lurk in
from the insides.
spreading to suffocate the ones who
bullet this hatred into your restless head,
under your river of limp hair.
and finally it blanks your glass window so all you see
is your black hole of distort.
it’s lips poured spirits and wine
- fresh squeezed-
into my hands, into my system.
And it walks behind me sober. Watching my slurring stumbles
whilst an old sense of strength from inside me
poured from my mouth, spilling on concrete.
my legs fail me and I fall a trance. Into it’s arms.
But only for a sweet second -
and now I’m smothered lying in stone cold slate, it’s so nippy, the cold.
and it’s shadow blocks the streetlight floating above me.
Wait; streetlight is glaring dim orange again
now that it has dispersed away, down the pathway.
With open arms, it’s searching for a sober.
an old one, August 2018
Who ism “it”?, you decide.
The way in which goosebumps electrocute and run down my skin when I awake, to shield from the cold mornings -
Is the same way I cast myself closed when your presence threatens me, so I don’t melt into my weakness.
Mum turns the heating on but I still shudder.
You slip away but I still suffer.
9 September 1am something
I’ll show you.
Its these words, that are vivid
of the weapons that you had used
whilst you butchered me.
9 April 22:33
you can’t just
play me out until I’m dizzy
and lying on the ground like a lost infant.
you can’t make my words
at once crash off the shelves,
my tongue will drop down my pipe.
perhaps I’ll close my eyes
once open, I am masked.
masked until I am as thick as my skin
punching through the layers inside
as my soul pushes them back.
so that they are well hidden from your luring voice,
like these marks stained on this paper.
12 November 19:54
With me, I walk blindly forward as my mess is overturned behind me as I sulken dream. To turn round eventually I find all that’s been done, with me left to tidy - to replenish and erase the mess that has already *******, spread rapidly into every corner of my insides. The lights go off when it burns off and the ashes tend to tell of time wasted of thirst and sense of waiting for his return.
I’m then diving into the spiral of aftermath that leaves itself to solve without answers. Heart stretches further and further away from its halves to avoid being engulfed by incoming wave which floods of knowing I would never have you.
the pen I resist from daggering into my wrist so it’s ink can bleed into my insides with mellow wordly turmoil.
- See though, alone I thought I was safe. But those words that dropped out her mouth so unimpeachably illustrated you breaking into me. At that very moment. And unleashing the demons from their cage. I think I feel them gnawing now.
16 April 21:55
When I kiss the sun.
I am reborn and I am new, and we are one.
I am awoken and alight.
My temperature spikes and I am blind.
All I see is sun
the stars are watching us
the humans are watching us.
I make their planet dark - whilst I kiss their sun.
She is mine, I see her never, I miss her.
She gives me life I return her love.
We grow young and we live forever.
We stop time because we are their time.
If only we could stop time.
For it won’t exist.
They may have no light
And we are selfish because we love
When we kiss.
I wish to be beautiful without you thus I am not.
For with you my eyes green and my face alight.
My hair burns I am burning.
Burn as we kiss I die.
I wrench my own feeble nails
down the wall, insistently.
and I'm sickly tortured by
all the screeching
but something else should feel the distress.
- these hands need punishing.
because forever you dwell in my palms
but they've never let me hold you secure;
never let me cradle you to warmth.
- I guess just because I feel that you will
just all melt away by the time I blink.
And because my hands simply don't ever deserve to bathe in your hold, your being.
you are always painfully in reach
Before me you sat framed
infused hypnotic eyes
with your liquor of sorrows parched at your left.
Tracing your fingers as they clenched each card continuously -
as if your mind was programmed by your own demon.
As each one failed, you were stripped of your dignity
your worth. You would then seep further into that chair.
Still I would watch, incase you drowned.
Then again the cards would pile upon the dusted table
and you threw them so feebly, so hastily.
And I held your time in my hands
remorsefully as it poured out my own creases
You told me you were hurting,
the sight of this ripping paper, shredded by your eyes
only reminded me of how you once tried me.
I didn’t lose it for you, nor did you win with me.
5 April 21:06
It was one after the other with you
still I find to feel
my arms swing
my hands clamber over
as my fingertips hastily wrap round the letters of his name.
which ink refuses to write
until it forgets his face, though sees how my eyes shot rays
of iridescent blue
and feels how my stomach would indulge to engulf my heart
until it was shredded and pure.
erased and framed back into its place when it gave up.
those letters bleed through the paper and I toss it into fire
they age and crumble
ashes settle but blow.
and I find them on my palms,
which reminds me...
drum drum drum she pounds
on my sleeve, upon my neck ; in my dreams.
but we adopt resistance to feelings that hurt us.
now I walk through this art gallery blind I can’t see but I think those paintings are of us