There are some constants in our crazy ******-up story
Like how I feel before I meet you
That debate it stays the same
Should I do this once again?

I know of course the answer is:
No! Run a mile while you still can!
But 'still can' is a lost entity, been and gone
And this it has been since day one

Sunday soul,
You took my hand,
And twirled me ‘round the lounge
I shut my eyes,
And off we went;
to the place that’s only ours

Sunday soul,
You laid me down,
And I took in your vista
I melted down,
And breathed in;
Your mystery, Enigma

Sunday soul,
We travel back,
What untethered frisson!
Hard to fathom,
Such a moment,
Took place in our kitchen (!)

The first and last tears cried for you
Still etched clear in memories blue
The morning chest ache weighing down
My veins all fashioned in a frown

Still each and every moment counts
As something rising up my fount
And all I want or ever will
Please save me from this bitter pill

So fight for me
Just let me know
I mattered once
Or helped you glow

Dark halos left where tears have dried
All is gone and lips are bruised
Why won't you just fight for me?
I know it's spent but I'm still yours

How hard can it really be
God knows I'm trying
To find someone who actually wants to listen
Who doesn't just want to talk endlessly about themselves
Then ask a question
Here's my window
I answer
A full and deep and heartfelt answer
"Yes but did I tell you about the time..."
Can it really be that hard
God knows I'm trying

Splendour, opulence, fortune, glory,
All these things the world covets,
But the richest man in all the land
won’t have that which he begets

For he secured the hand of her;
A maiden purer than first snow!
He rode in on the stallion’s back
to take his gift - unblemished glow

She gave it up, without a sigh,
She let him in where no man went,
Where chaos lived inside her core;
Infiltrated, savoured, spent.

Trust is like a flower;
Every time you break it
You rip off a petal and stamp it into the concrete

Trust is like a butterfly;
Every time you betray it
You break a wing and render it flightless

Trust is like a brick wall;
Every time you crush it
You chip away at the cement
You knock out the cornerstone

I still have petals
I still have wings
I still have mortar
I still have bricks
And here I stand
Albeit unsteady
But I am ready
Yes, I am ready.

All that's left are your little remnants;
The tea stain where you left your cup,
A tshirt in my chest of drawers,
A sock that you did not pick up.
Your toothbrush leaning against mine,
Your imprint on the eiderdown,
The faint smell of your cigarette,
That lingers like a cloud around.

Now it's just me with all your remnants,
And the one wish I want so much,
To find the glue to mend my heart
And all the shards that felt your touch.

Look at the sheer beauty of the camelia;
Hot, yet delicate pink petals contrast against the lush green of the Spring grass
How long she waited for her buds to burst into bloom
Patiently waited through stark Winter frost
To hold centre stage on the first day of Spring
Oh, how short lived was the fame of the sweet camelia
Her hot pink heads scattered all too soon on the dewy grass beneath;
How much thought we waste on how things may have been and what the cost
While the camelia patiently sways in the breeze
With no remorse for what is lost.

I look back
the cloud, the haze
I won't be taken by it again;
By You
Your untold complexities
tangled in your web
of deep and dark deception
Do You even know?
Is it You in the mirror
Of all the others' souls;
to spend an evening with one of them
All I see is You
and then again,
the cycle restarts.

This morning, at 8:51am, on a blustery, rainy island off the Danish coast, I said yes.

I said yes to all of you,
to the vast unknown,
to the brimming anxiety
and the overflowing happiness

Because you showed me how it is to really feel.