When I was eight, I threw a rock at my cat.
I wanted something to love me, and he
didn't. Unfamiliar with rage and unskilled
at throwing rocks, I missed and hit the fence.
I was and am ashamed of this.
I wasn't that kind of kid.

Once, a boy sent me photos from Scotland,
daybreak over  the snowy moors where he
hunted grouse with his father. He was skinny,
and sweet. I stopped writing him because I
had a thousand words for love, and he
couldn't spell any of them.

And once, I took your love for granted. It was vanity;
I felt like the lost works of a prolific master.
I wanted someone to delight in discovering me,
to wonder where I had been. It was easy to
blame you; all those years and you didn't
know what you had.

If you believe in all possible universes,
I aimed for the fence and hit the cat.
I married a sweet, skinny boy who will never
love a poem. I never had anything to prove
and I don't need you to forgive me.

My heart pretended
you were a sound
I could drink
when I went searching
for golden lines full of surprise.
When I walked towards you,
my ears tasted the beat of the earth
and it began to turn
in reverse.

Ringing clear were hundreds of memories
I had kissed freely,
known as all the things you did.
Then in came the rushing sea
crashing into my mind
with waves of everything
you have ever said.

Therefore, I waited by a tree
that had shown its shadow
as being all that I could ever need.
However,
when I looked inside myself,
I found my heart
cold and bare.

A sight I have now become
but there is one thing I surely know.
I could never push aside
the sound of you I drink
from all these golden lines.
My ears will walk
towards you and taste
this beat
until I make you mine.

there are locked boxes inside my closet

here is fear, loathsome and cold.
with icy fingers that ply the hasp

this one is joy, i bring it out from time to time,
watch it dance around the room

here is anger, with a fire's breath, burning away the sacred
it lives next to the fear, it is a patient one.

this one, love, slipped out when i wasn't looking.
hard to put back, how did it fit inside this tiny box?

i try to shove it back in, but it keeps just spilling out.
slippery love, velvet and warm, is a liquid form
i am unable to contain.

I can relate to the girl in the tears
she’s 16 and in love
I can relate to the swearer
and the rebel
I can relate to the slow cooker
and the microwave oven
I can relate to the wrinkle
in the corner of an eye
and on the sides of a well used smile
I can relate to the wheels
on that 4×4 Jeep
and the tar on the road
I can relate to that fake laugh
that falls anxiously short every time
I can relate to the butterflies
inside that stomach
on that stage
I can relate to the fire
and the frost
and the luke warm water
I can relate to that tilted frame
trying to hold that pretty picture
I can relate to the river
always moving
I can relate to that split second
where those eyes flashed sad
and that mouth said otherwise
I can relate to that stupid ******* T.V
that said the wrong thing at the wrong time
I can relate to the shadow inside that heart
where someone did someone wrong
and it stays there to remind them
daily
I can relate to the paint
and the white wall
I can relate to the lady
with the cats
and the man who walks and talks
to himself
I can relate to the one that never wants to be
alone
or forgotten
and I can relate to the one
who sits inside
curled up tight
So I will try
to never point my finger
crookedly towards your face
because
I can relate.


© 2011 Zoe Ray

When a hearts 

home
is stolen

it is replaced by 

things, that are

unkind, unfit, 

luring of lies, 

masked in 

bone deceit.

A 60 walt bulb disguises.

only
With a swift hand

pushing back the 

blue curtain and

the brilliant light 

of honesty
reveals masks 

lieing

down, dead.

your gaze rests upon my shoulder
like a black hole
sinking me into an oblivion
where only our two heartbeats
will be heard

I fear to look up

please, stay.
while I keep my heart at distance.

the nuclear energy flashing
in your eyes,
the places on my neck
that rate on fire
where your lips could ravish,
the edge-of-combustion feeling
inside of me when I see you…

this contagion of desire
that sinks into the skin above my heart
is a garden I don’t dare stroll into
for fear I might find I desperately need
a life filled with only our laughter

I don’t want you to live inside
of me like a secret wind
with all the loneliness of a leaf
in the forest
who is denied love through the dark green spaces
that it forever remains

where sunlight has forgotten it
and its unreachable happiness is
a sadness that moans and
pushes its solitudes
deeply into the root of its tree
and where loneliness is a desperate cry
after it has been torn from its anchor

love is a dying hope where
my heart can lie restless
like the leaf farthest from the stars

so, please not too close

your nuclear eyes
are a bargaining chip I can’t afford
as they stir my soul into
an endless dance
of wanting and hope
the source of possible pain
where I could find myself offering
my soul in wholeness

a death for life
simply to light a fire
on my shoulders from your mouth
where my skin turns into
a newborn star
a flash of radiance that
awakens the universe

your touch could, quite possibly,
be a never ending
creation of universe within universe
a collision of existence
like life itself blown apart
where the end of the universe is
where two dormant hearts awaken
and cause life to recreate itself

distance…
my black night that asks
the moon for her light

you make me want to love,
or die, or leave

and this confusion stirs
in the pit of my stomach
like a stone in the darkest place
of the ocean

so I break away
from your gaze
and fade back into the shadows
where my heart talks to the stars once again
to dream of a nuclear kiss
that I may never have the courage to accept
for my heart cannot afford
another death