Your hands whispered their truth as
you crossed the ocean. Lying between
those you wrote and those you did not
they remain, stagnant and curled up against my heart.

I miss you, I say, and you write
I wish you were her.

From root to blossom we each grow
Reaching up to see the stars aligned
And although our branches go different ways
Our roots remain forever entwined.

I looked to him but there he was no longer. It's hard; being
the one left behind. You suspend and watch them trek footprints

to new lands, whilst you sit, stare and surrender, lost in
the memories of all that you built together. It's not like your love

just departs with them either. It burns on, fierce in spite of the
rain on your face and your wishes that it would just stop.

I can hear the whispering of my heart over the screaming in my head.
Make it stop, please, make it stop.

yes, I am here, here is my hand
outstretched and empty and willing for you to
tip your fingers into, let me take the weight
of your soft palm against mine,
please, the night is cold and
I haven't been touched for too long.

I would save you the sunshine and tell you
of the shapes I saw in the clouds
and bring you a piece of every conversation,
the laughs, loves and lyrics of each day
all yours to consume; to cherish and buoy
you through the deepest depths of the dark.

Take it and reach for my hand when it hits,
my bird, I would die for that smile of yours
which caused the sun and the stars to each be lit
and the sea to return to the still sorrowed shores.

You are crying out for aid
I can taste the salt
from across the oceans
from across his seas

your sobs are rabid
and my words soft
the only weapon here
against the frothing tide

A whimper down the lines
yes, you have done
what needed to be done
yet the waters are still churning.

You whistle at me, here witnessed for the
first time in 589 days. I stop.

You stare. You smile. Your warm eyes still
sicken me. My old friend.

Tell me you miss me, see surprise at such sorrow,
but, still, do not touch my skin.

It's brief; I have to go. You linger and I walk away.

Welcome home, food on the table, a smile a little hesitant,
you're angry I am late.

A message reveals itself unwelcome. I respond, bleak
unrepentant work. I love him, not you.

This time, he does not write back.

Vindictive, I want to add
you were just a lesson
never to be repeated.

I've done it again, I've cut you with my clumsiness.

A slip of the tongue and laughter loses all that which it once held, falling flawlessly like water through cupped hands.
I kneel before you, attempt to staunch the flow, sudden now, gushing and suspiciously darkened red.

Can't you see what it is that you do to me? Can you not hear the words you speak?  
My hands may be red but so are yours.

I mirror your actions and the consequences are dire; I hate to call you a hypocrite but this self sympathy is starting to get old.

That day of goodbye
I broke glass into little slithers
that now still swim beneath my skin,
such beautiful glass reflections
sending each of the seven colours away.

You were excited;
I couldn't look into
those finite eyes of yours as
your skin touched mine
for the last time.

The day I said that last goodbye
boiled the water from dry eyes
and now burnt blood vessels beat on
despite the fact that my heart has gone.

So it ends between us despite how reticent we've been
your words were always dust; it's only now to be seen

You wave the white flag and the mock surrender
as I learn to burn you and rip all asunder
your façade naught but a cheap, grey suit
all show and no substance; your face resolute

The urge now to burn you is humming in veins
I know you so well mere words would stoke flames

You are walking away and your shoulders fake low
deep darkness enshrines the things that I know
temptation to reveal and revel in raised words
brews on inside me, I could make you hurt

and how I wish to force you to admit your pretences
call out the horrors you yourself pre-empted
this is not all me, we two share the blame
but in truth, yes biased, I know whose name
should bare the burden and so not feel the victim
you feel sorry only for yourself; I was the *****
I conned and coxed your simple heart from your skin
but I was not the one who started this, you bare that sin

back away now, yes you had better retreat
because the things I would say you would not meet
there is no guilt in my eyes because you stole it all
giving me words I did not say and taking the fall
that you caused through self-obsessive countenance
go now, go quick, go swift before I renounce
this vow to stay silent, to veil hard thoughts unheard
but one more pity from you and you shall be burnt.

I blew it; today is finished and tomorrow is the promise I can't keep.
The only one to blame is me, I am tormented
by myself and no other hand can be found to claim sleep
nor forgiveness only silence and internal reprimands
are my constant; they will stay with me forever.

Charming and charmless whispers echo in my ears
as eyes ignore the evidence before them and hands reach
once more for the gluttonous demon whose promise of what
who or why I cannot fathom; do not care to know.

I was sick when we met
and you liked it.

My body was airborne, bones of a feather,
jutting out like a blade for you to
run your fingertips across.

I always left at 4am, half raving mad with
exhaustion, the pinprick bleeding, pale exhaustion,
you closing the door as I fell into the night.

You inevitably commented
on the way my ribs arched, taut rise of bones
leering obscene through lean skin.

They were each a transparent edge,
observed my breath was a desperate pant, I
needed help, not blunt trauma to the lips.

and then when it comes to it
I am reminded
of the paltry promise each beat brings

come, take my hand
for I offer it
to any who seeks its pledge

willingly, I demand it
for solitary I see no worth
in what it has to give

please, I desire your attention
the play wreaks havoc with he
who vows his last breath

too sublime, his proffer
golden-gilded, open handed
blinding triumph

yet still I plead for more

and despite this
I retain that which
I do not deserve.

I'm a ******* psychopath
Chew me up and spit you out
The smoking gun at my fingertips
One taste, one touch
That's all this is.

Getting better, getting nowhere
Steps that twist concave
Round and round the ******* garden
I know how but
I won't behave.

Little whispers, seeing mirrors
The light flashes but no ones home
How many pushes will it take you
To stumble, I'll keep at it
I can hack it
what else is a lunatic to do?

One more secret
slicing soon to retire
the sound that
comes unbidden
I need you
and how I wish I didn't.

I opened up for you
like you were also asking me to
but when I peeled back salted skin
to expose those secrets feathered in

you didn't try to patch the pieces
you didn't come to suffer those creases
and now my bones are all alight
and you are nowhere in sight

I called for you like I wouldn't before
because you had been there at my door
always insistent that I let you in
but now I sit here with weeping skin

this is why I bolt the hatches
set fire to our strings with those matches
push away any who wander near
for there is no love to be found here

if you come back will you find
solace or no piece of mind
I don't know if I can stay
or if you want me to, anyway.

To envy a circle, what, pray, is this?
But a broken circuit! A line to the abyss!

To envy a circle, peace you have no heart,
For unlike a circle, a line must have a start.

They tell me
how I was very lucky to have had someone
that ripped me open when they left.

True love, they say,
is the one that leaves the scars.

I haven't slept since I heard
so many words
Each as meaningless as those of
rain and darkness and dangerdangerdanger.
You didn't listen, my darling, spilt on the concrete.

We put you in the ground today
and their words went down with you
As I stood and wished
that we had never met.

There are eight hours left in the day
yet it's dark outside
where those cars keep tearing past
disturbing the quiet in here.

I'm trying not to feel alone
rattling around in this empty home
but when I caved and I called out
you didn't call back.

Steps have been taken
will your path revisit this place?
I sit in our home and remember
the beginning, in this room

with the cars still racing by
and it was still dark outside
and your arms were around my shoulders
and your heart was shouting yes.

It’s like I wanted you to love me because you were the least likely to, so it was safe to want you because it would never happen. And now you love me and I cannot take back the words I do not mean but which keep slipping off my tongue every time you say I love you.

I love you I love you I love you.

Each a different lie spoken by deceiving tongues. The more you say it the less it means. The more time I spend with you the more I cherish being alone.
I do not want your love nor your hands nor your smiles and happiness or eternal preoccupation with how much you perceive everyone either wants you or to be you.
You are sad and strange and closed off, but now so cracked open wide that I can feel nothing but contempt. Like the still homeless sat with defeat painted on their faces, it is far too easy to want to kick something which is already down than muddy your hand trying to pick it up.

I do not want you, I am afraid. I want the safety of impossibility; you have become far too willing.

"They were not well matched", she says idly

and I catch my breath, sharp winter air bleaching frosted
lungs, scoring skin into breached, breathless, baited sections
as the chambers and valves seize within, sickening

"Such a nice boy", she mumbles, "lovely eyes"

so nice, lips that tasted of stinging sweetness which strayed (stay) strayed and those bruised autumn irises, fighting fire with indifference,
burning tired grey witness to listless ******* ash.

"I wonder where he is now," that crinkled, crinoline mouth utters

wind howling, battering, shrieking of devastation,
fingers clawing cold, brittle blue skin, souring breath with
desperation's pant, oh, please, tell me-

"Not for you to care."

undeniable

in the falling snow, in the striking silence, suffocation sinking in,
sat still with the jagged old woman,
who knows or doesn't know, who cares or doesn't care,

the tv is too loud and my peeled skin
echoes bleeding beaching, I can't get out
and  next door are screaming

a riot of colour and life and celebration
hurts so much I am taut of breath,
please I need help but the words
won't trip off my tongue

I can't bear the uproar
water flashing, roaring , oh
god the suffocation with the sound
of inebriation

I am trying but I

can't
stand it
anymore.

I walk home alone in the darkness,
winds whipping skin and the trees
singing salty that song of the sea.

You taste is tripping on my tongue,
your marks paint my body and your
words trample every fletched thought.

I walk home alone in the crashing tides,
******* dances, unwilling, as seconds
slip into that final oblivion whilst I take steps

away, away from you I sail but your
voice is my compass, your eyes both beacons
sent to set me sweetly towards your shore.