My mind
showing me colours
that I could not believe.

Honed stories,
blended edges
making a collage.

My dreams at night
are well worth
this life that I am spending.

Silence echoes in the dance,
playing with the edges of time,
dreams holding everything together
while I sew coats for them.

Stunned by the light
that Silence sprayed,
the dance stopped
and went away.

My mind
floating in colours
that it made me believe.

Oh Baby, you've done.

Captured my essence
and made me think
that
I
exist.

For a
slit-wrist second
in "time".

Until them sparks
make fire.
& take you up in his flames.

A bad dream.
Filmed right between my
starry-eyes.

Soul Photography,
uhhhh
Flashbacks of missin' you.

Until then,
I will be all black
& nothing more.

Than a wannabe-writer in the
mourning.
And a secret-screamer at night.

I stood stoic as they reeled your cold body in
It was only when I saw that your hair was still wet from your last shower
that I broke down
The coroner said he couldn't get your eyes to close
I said neither could I
Not even when we kissed
The ligature marks around your neck looked
like patterns that danced across your grandmothers hall
as we lay there arm in arm
Your laughter echoed off the walls
you told me how you wanted to be so small
and stare at the ceiling all day
that when you were a child you would fall asleep under your bed look at the marks the wood made
how if you stared long enough
some marks were even faces
or partial eyes
you said that you would never give up on me
well where the **** are you now?
Those covers echoed with the reality of our secrets
weighed down by our burdens
so take your knotted rope
for even in death
you look choked
here we are the same old story
me arguing with the dead
but we both know you visit me
in my dreams with open eyes you never get to sleep any-more
or breathe

I was angry at your blue body
for staring at me open eyed
with the same eyes that told me there was
magic
in life
You are a lie.
such a ******* lie.

looking
across the waters
as you stood
upon the shore,

a warm feeling
your only comfort.

shadows of
a distant past
so long before.

memories
now fresh
of love undone,
the mingling
of two hearts
that beat as one.

sights
and sounds
and vague imaginings
that passed so long ago,

a time of love
so seldom had
that few have come to know.

me,
i was fine
up to the time
that you gathered me aside,
speaking of matters
so far from thought,

of how
your mind
and spirit fought,

and how you cannot
accept the time
although your heart
has recieved a sign.

why
do you
unplug my ears
and open my eyes

if not
selfishly
to console your fears
and subdue your sighs.

were
you tired
of being lonly
standing in spirit
by the sea,

are you
crying out
for you only
or are you
calling out for me.

what purpose served
in judging so quickly,
so swiftly,
so much.

why
make us
within arms reach
when you remain
so out of touch.

you run
at the sound
of love's
unfinished call,

then turn
on your heel
and unsure
of your direction,
you stall.

hiding
in your craft
to appease your muse,

the oils
they dry so slow.

creating visions
of what you choose,
still,
not always
of what you know.

ships and bluffs
and the face of love,
the canvas
again and again will change.

images of
a sea so rough
and a love
determined to remain.

paint me
out of the picture,
paint another man over me,

it will not change
that it was me
that stood aboard
that ship
below the cliff
that you stood upon.

behind you
the rolling highlands
of our beloved scotland,

while below you
the thickness of mist
hides that we list
and are going down.

then waves crashing
and men thrashing,
don't you know
that i have drowned.

your
tears add
to the
vastness
of the sea,

i know
that although
you cry for you
you also cry for me.

paint dries faster
than the tears
you have shed,

for a heart
cannot master
a love
that is not dead.

i wish
that you had
been spared
the wait,

knowing what
it is to grieve.

you felt you only
standing at the gate
though hand in hand with me.

if
i could have
kissed your cheek
to take away your pain.

for i
would do
anything for you,
even die again...

© 2000
© 2000