My fingers have learned
how it feels
to get burned.
When your every
“I’m Sorry”, left a scar,
deep and unearned.

The words on your lips
whispered the truth
while you slept.
Leaving me no longer wondering
why you smiled
as I wept.

My heart finds itself smiling
into the numbness
of your vacancy.
Your memory’s grown silent
and is now dead
to me.

~

And I fall…down

As the sunset of life reaches out to me
in marmalade swirls…orange sherbet dreams
I follow in loose footsteps,
not sure of the bridges I cross
or those burned in the process

Alone I stumble on braided pebbles,
scattered on this serpentine path,
feeding my mind with thoughts
Peering back on what was,
crying when your picture finds me

Dark tangerine tints line the sky now
for the day…this day…my life
shall soon disappear beyond the horizon
Fading to a tiny speck,
hiding in plain sight where no one can see…or care

Finality sings its sad melody
in fractured bar chords and minor notes
As I again find you invading my soul,
reaching down from my heart,
the place you still reside

And I whisper I am sorry…for the pain
Collections of hurt I did not realize I carried
beneath shiny bows and pretty paper
Sending you away from me…my precious gift,
the loss of all that was me…you

Quicker my steps drive
to that straight line illusion beckoning
Darker still as minutes pass
for I know this end is mine alone
as the moon crests the sea and I fall…down

Here I lie, broken and shattered, thinking what difference would it make if I die
You think I am giving up on life without a try?

I haven't accepted my desolation and misery without a fight,
I just realised that at the end of this tunnel is no light

I've played out my cards, I have used every trick in the book,
The world has simply lost its colour, I wish you could look

It's like someone flips a coin and nothing seems right,
I am drained, I no longer have the instinct to fight.

I strived too hard to find the purpose of my existence but failed,
The boat which heads for a happy life has already sailed.

She was so generous
that she left me with innumerable sorrows.

I was so selfish
that I couldn't give her anything but Love.



El egoísmo    

Ella era tan generosa
Que me dejó con incontables penas.  

Yo era tan egoísta  
Que no le pude dar nada excepto amor.

You're killing me
With you words
With your smile
With your touch

To show someone
Paradise
And then
Deny them

She wants to feel the softness of feathers upon the tips of her toes
Reaching out for comfort that will surely come
She caresses the moments before midnight
With suger kisses so sweet
Like honey coated forgiveness
She smiles into her lovers eyes of crystal dew
Beyond
Her sences reeling
Twirling, dancing
Like the figurine within an ancient music box
As the music surrounds the childs mind so pure
And yet
There is more captured within
The sweetness is soured only by memories
She paints with fingers in the suger
To forget
There are things so worth forgetting
She sees him sleeping and places
mirrors where his eyes once looked upon her
For now she will see herself
The way he see's
The blood from the girl child dried as he slept
There was to be no more sugered moments
No more honey for him to savour
she had seen
Her worth in his eyes
Such a shame sweet child
She should of loved herself with toes touching feathers
Reaching for a comfort
That would only be found in forgiveness of self
Far beyond the place he sleeps
With mirrored eyes of crystal dew

He awakes to find his beloved drenthed in death
He reaches for moments which never come
Her projection of him so false upon this moment
As in a moments seperation
She sees with her angel presence
The suger he tastes on lips so pure
His tears now mingle with the blood
As he tears her mirrors from his eyes
He understands not
The reason
Why white feathers are falling from the sky

I only hear the chain clinking
under the endlessly spinning fan
& this continuous buzzing in my head.

I only see the light of my screen,
surrounded by the pitch of my room
& the veil of my solitude that covers me.

I only smell your memory in my mind,
of what once was really incredible
& what could have been so much greater.

I only touch myself privately,
the way you always did tenderly
& it's not nearly as good as you always did.

I only taste the abundant saline-drops
that carve deep lines down my sad face
& I know the flavor of loneliness,
remain starved for your affections.

When the thought of an absence
tears at the spirit
leaving a vacuum in its place
Perhaps it shall be called love

When a life would freely
be given for another
without thought or hesitation
Perhaps it shall be called love

When the happiness of another
means more than ones own
Perhaps it shall be called love

When walking away is the only option
to allow for that happiness
Perhaps it too, shall be called love

I am turning this pencil upside down and rubbing vigorously upon a fictional friend.

Pressing tightly to my life's page the images of you disappear and your presence comes to an end.

Blowing away the memories of opportunistic lies, self serving betrayals and make pretend.

The page is now clear.  A new story can be told.  This time however, I will write it in pen.

©Tina Thompson

He says to her, "goodnight." ("I never meant to hurt you.")
She walks away from him. ("You never hurt me; you shattered me.")
He begs her, "I hope you sleep well." ("I am sorry. Please let me put you back together.")
She continues to walk. ("I am a sinking ship. I am an earthquake. I am a falcon without a falconer.

I am beyond repair.")