I want to softly whisper
incomplete poems
on your collar bones
that don't rhyme with anything
but your heavy breathing.

I want to bury my face
in the curves of your neck
because you smell like the winter clouds
and I've been gazing at the sky
since you left.

Through all I've been through
I know my friends will be there
But I have those friends who I know I can't trust
And I know better to say my secrets to them
Because they'd look at me different
Never the same person again
I'm just that person who has got a lot of problems
Who tries to dump them on every person she meets and
Becomes slightly close to
It's a little insulting
But I was never good at keeping a secret and I never will be ever again
My secrets will spill from my mouth in front of those that I love
Someday
It will happen
I wish I was kidding though
Because the thought hurts so much
To the point that some people are becoming as irrelevant as they were
The second we met
I never remember a face
And for that
I apologize
Because every single face is worth remembering
I just forget them as an instinct
Because I am not worthy of such beautiful people
That can carry burdens as heavy as mine
That can smile in free time
Because they're getting along with every person around them
Because they are what I wish to be in so many ways
I want to be funny
I want to be kind
I want to be witty
I want to be special
I want to be tough
I want to be sensitive
I want to be beautiful
And I know that I am
I am all of these things
But I know I am more
More negative
I am rude
I am sarcastic
I am a grudge holder
I am hungry
I am annoying
I am selfish
I am slow
I am not beautiful
And the bad clearly outweighs the good
And that's as sad as my ability to make friends
And my ability to forget that people love me
Because I can't remember what I can't feel
Because I forgot again
And that makes me as ignorant as a stranger to my life

Searching for you but your never around,
looking for release but it's not easily found,
bottles all empty,  I’m running on air,
smoke after smoke, my lungs want to tear,
need some kind of redemption,  it’s time to leave,
make a fresh start some sort of reprieve,
but everywhere I look is just a chapter in a book,
and as each page gets turned another bridge is burned.


© H V Swan