I wish you loved me how
you loved him,
you speak with
reverence to memory
and not of present,
emotions run not
through your veins;
with me it seems,
I haven't shed tear
10 years yet
the lack of
sentiment lies
within you,
i feel achieved
when i hear an
“i love you”,
I’m listening through
static; thinking I hear
clearly but being drowned
out by what’s louder,
your touch is deafening
to clarity, and I don’t know
if they felt this way too,
reaching out to transparency
never seemed so tangible,
and being grazed by
fingertips of yesterday never
felt so confusing,
your emotion seems
only soluble through
my tears, and my tears
only seem to fall
with your emotion
I wish you loved me
like you loved him.

I want to paint your every detail with my words

But I fear this maddening obsession will put you off.

I want to write about your freckles and wrinkles,

About the colour of your lips

But I am afraid this creep in my head will drive you away.



I want you to read what I write about you,

But never saying it’s you;

To leave you with wet clouds but never rain.


I want to write about how you light a cigarette and caress my face with smoke

About how you revel in this beloved poison on your thick lips.

About how you let your hair rest on your forehead

Making love to your eyes.

About how you are wondering right now if it’s all for you.



I want to write about everything you were, as you were

About how you are, as you are

About how you will be, dark and free

With or without me.