Your name is nothing but air in my lungs
Your lips, nothing but past heat beats I kept at arms length
Your words, nothing but a mumbled mess.

But I'll always listen to your favorite bands.
Put your art up in my room.
Think of you before I go to sleep at night.

I will always be pathetically,
Hopelessly,
desperately,
in love with you.

Like the rain loves my ***** windows,
Ill be there.
But only if you need me.
And only if you want me.
And sometimes when you don't need me
or want me.

You are sun through trees,
star lit nights,
every cold breeze,
cigarette,
love song.
You are bitter, sour and sweet.
You are my home,
and my lost.

You are the last person I want to fall in love with
Because you're never going to love me.
But I cant imagine what its like not to feel this way.

He stood on her doorstep, flowers in hand.
In coat of his father's, resembling a man.
Still queenless a king, now he stands like a slave.
Flowers in hand, resembling a grave.

He knows the smell of rain
He asks what color is the rain?
The wind blows
And he smiles
He knows the smell of spring
He asks what color is the spring?
A bird chirps
He smiles

He walks home
Wondering the color of the world
And he smiles

A man-made cave of brutal grey
Damp and dark on sunlit day
Void of what it used to be
Yet a thousand souls I seem to see
Oppressed I felt I must escape
So through narrow door my way I make
A few steps more on grassy knoll
To sit, and breathe, and take control
I stare across the open fields
Wide and flat, and Poplar healed
I want to write
Yet words won’t come
For in this place all words are done
Upon this knoll, one long past day
Were penned the words of John McCrae
So instead I ponder field’s banks
Fresh turned earth in neat trim ranks
And watch the flowers bob their heads
With diaphanous petals
Of deep blood red.

RD © 2014

Your unwell she says
With a look of dismay
I'm fine I insist
Tho the slits on my wrist
Suggest otherwise

Your weight is dangerously low
She tells me
I tell her, my weight is fine
As i disagree
And so commonly as we do
We agree to disagree
But to what degree was
I willing to sink
Before I reached the brink
The breaking point
You need to be here she reminds me
I reply quietly
That this place is for the sick
And me, I am fit.
I am the picture of health
I speak
Tho the weakness in my voice
Suggests quite the opposite
So in silence we sit
And wait
And the clock it ticks
As the minutes pass by
It's okay to cry
She reassuringly speaks
And slowly but surely
Those minutes pass into hours, days and weeks.
And I start to open up my eyes a little
Perhaps even start to realise
That maybe she was right and I was wrong
That maybe that self defeating song
I'd played over in my mind
Had started to unwind me from
The real me, from reality.
That maybe I wasn't quite the person I thought I had been
And that maybe those seems I'd sown
To protect myself
Had actually served in destroying my
Physical and emotional health