This silent choice you've made  
Is hung in the shape of a willow tree
Branches intertwining around my bruising flesh
Twisting and churning into a leafy cage from you to me  
Yes
I've noticed it

And I scream out to try and get your attention again
To try and get you to look into my eyes like you once did
My 3 a.m. bloodshot eyes
Which drive you further away with every thin line of red across their glassy surface
But in daylight well disguised
Dressed up in paper jokes and drawn on smiles
That burn my flesh to put on and take off  

And What kind of melodrama is this?
This dull story
Perhaps any excuse to not be happy will do me
You amongst many the piece to my puzzle
Or maybe
this is simply a poignant reminder of the time we have lost together

The sea calls out her name,
soft whispers hidden in the sound of the waves that gently break against the shore,
holding out my hand I touch the empty air,
it reaches back yet I feel nothing but the cold,
salt filled mist that swirls through my soul.


© H V Swan