1am, and secrets
Spill to the surface like
Sleep somehow has a truth serum
Effect.
At 4 in the morning,
If you catch me awake I'll tell you
Everything you need to know
And more,
But come sunrise I,
Like a tortoise scared,
Will curl back into
My shell and
Hide til dusk.

Don't think to take advantage
Of my tired tongue and
Truthful chatter,
But when the morning comes,
Remember I hold
Revelations inside me
Until I'm ready
To burst.

Part 1;* *Love

I want to climb inside your skin,
Make a home in your brain,
And listen.

I want to know more about you than anyone,
To predict what you’ll say,
But to listen regardless,
Because I love the way you say it.

I want to understand,
To feel each line on your skin,
And scar on the walls of your heart,
And to know the stories that made them.

I want to know you so well,
That sometimes we forget we’re two people,
When it’s late,
And we’re awake,
More comfortable together
Than we are in our own flesh.

Let me in. Let me wear you.
Let me know what it’s like to suffer your downs,
And ride your ups,
And I’ll show you my wounds,
And expose to you my thoughts,
Until we know each other
Better than we know ourselves.

Part 2; The Boy

If I am careless,
if I allow my mind to wander,
I sometimes still
taste
the smoke from your lips.

It’s the wrong place,
and the wrong time,
but my heart still
jumps
into my throat
when I remember your touch.

If I could pick up the phone,
and tell you how I miss those
stolen kisses,
I would.
But jeopardy terrifies me
and I’d rather not dive headfirst
down that whirlpool just yet.

Part 3; The Reconciliation

I know that we used to be
so different,
so full of life,
so full of love.

That you were once
energetic,
excited, and
enthralled,
and I, for a time,
was compassionate,
caring and
considered.

I know that we were once
different people,
with different stories
and different hopes.

We may have lost our way,
become somebody we wouldn’t even have
recognised as being
us,
if we met ourselves 5 years ago,
but remember that
we recognise each other now.

I know your innermost
thought
and your
deepest distaste,
and I will
never
ask you to be anybody but
who you are today.

We might not be the same people
we were when we were 15,
but we are people who have
grown together,
and laughed together,
and loved together,
and we are people who have shared
so much
it would be impossible to leave this partnership
whole.

We have fused souls.

And as much as we may reminisce
and remember who we
used to be,
let’s just tonight remember
something more important.

Let us remember
who we are now,
and that it would be more
difficult for me to
tear myself from you
than to tear myself in half.

Part 4; The Decline

Postpone.

The silence at home
kills me,
so what’s the harm in
one more smoke,
anyway?

I spent more time
travelling miles to see you,
than I would ever care to
admit,
battling on bikes,
through sleet and snow,
to spend 30 minutes
over coffee.

Where did that go?

Now my house is not
my home,
because space to breathe is
scarce
and I am breathless just thinking
of the travel to my front door.

What do you do when the foundations
become unglued?

Nothing can rebuild
something that’s not demolished,
but destitute.

Part 5; The End

I can see our future,
Clearly,
For the first time,
And I hate it.

There are no fuzzy young faces,
No unknown sticky fingers,
No pattering of
A strangers’ feet
That somehow sound like
Home.

All I see are false smiles
And fake conversations
And the knowledge that
I’ll never
Know you
Again.

You ask again for words that will explain
What made me who I am,
But I can’t find them,
And you wouldn’t want to hear them anyway.

To what end would your knowledge be?

For what purpose
Do you need to be told
In clearer terms
That I had my life ripped out of me
By the same man who gave it?

That I am a shell of a person,
Living a life I never asked for,
And don’t want.

What good would that be?

Can you find a way to fix wounds,
To take back scars?

You ask again for words that will explain,
How I came to be so
Arrogant
Manipulative
Repulsive
And I have no reply -
My armour is too strong for even I to break.
If I were to look through the visor,
I think that I might find
A scarred and blackened girl,
Sure that she is dead,
For her cage could only be hell.

And again you ask for words.

And again I have none.

How can I articulate the way I’ve been
Hollowed out,
Except to say that

There is nothing worth knowing here.

I want rest
From your hands and fingers reminding me.
Is that too much to ask?

I know that you think I am cold,
Unconcerned
With your needs,
But sometimes your touch
kills me,
And I wish it were okay
To ask you to
stop.

I am sorry that I’m broken,
That sometimes I need the space
To stick myself back together
Before you slowly melt the glue away
Again.

Don’t you think it hurts
Me
Too?

Rehearsed lines and
I love yous
Are all we speak lately.

Somehow silence seems loud,
when our stunted conversation leaves me
waiting,
waiting,
waiting,
for you to say something worthwhile.

I know you intimately,
Every line on your hand and thought in your head,
And I’m coming up empty.

There are those with whom I could talk forever,
About this and that
And not much
And nothing,

And then there’s you.

(You hold my attention so very little that I often wonder
Why I come back for more.)

Take care of me.

Wrap me up in blankets
And warm my heart
With soup and love.

Remind me why I’m here.

Tell me, with sincerity,
That you care about everything
I think,
Say,
And do,
And you want to be there to hear
Every little part of it.

Take care of me.

Make me realise, not for the first time,
That my existence is worthwhile,
And that yours wouldn’t be the same
If I weren’t here.

Take care of me.

Caress my innermost fears,
Not with touch, but with an emotion
That I haven’t seen for too long.

Take care of me.

I once was soft,
Round faced,
And pleasant.
Now I’m all elbows
And knees.

A stone statue;
Made by novice hands that,
In their haste to perfect,
Crafted only hard sides.

In my need to belong,
I sought to become
Nothing but angles
and sharp corners.

Yet,
now I’m half the size,
I fear I might be half the person,
and my bones leave bruises
to remind me I’m gone.

I wish I could be soft again
But each meal shows,
And critical eyes seek to
Chastise each part
That dares to be anything but
bone.