I had never known beauty until I saw him, lying there ******* tangled in my sheets. his lips were slightly parted and his eyes closed in sleep. the morning light began to creep it's way into the quiet room and lightly touched his bare chest. his hair was was undone and unruly and he was beautiful. I think of this when I lie alone in my cold room thinking of where you lay now. I think of the soft hum that resonated in your chest as you slept and how it comforted me once. I think of the way I'd wake you up with a small peck on the lips and how you'd kiss me back, not even opening an eye. I think of the way your eyes were then, foggy in sleep yet the way they smiled down at me made me feel as though that me, in all of my bare vulnerability was something beautiful too.

I lie,
Languid,
Festering fresh,
Sticky and sodden,
My chosen entrapment,
My shrouds,
Alive,
With me,
As I swell and shrivel,
As I leak and absorb,
I become more of it,
It becomes more of me.
As I expire,
It gains life.

http://tansyroake.weebly.com/

Spit the small words stuck
between the gaps of your teeth.
Before too long, they will begin
to decay the bones of your mouth.
Your smile will be stained
with things hoarded behind your lips-
Those little bits of bitterness
spread sour on your tongue.
Take a string drawn taught,
or a sharp stick
and carve out those nasty thoughts
and see just how much
your gums bleed

Tell Dr Blood it's Mrs Bloomsbury;
He always sees me right away;
He's such a wonderful doctor - so much
Better than that Doctor Day.

What the devil are you incinerating,
I consider your tone a right cheek,
I've not bothered you for ages; I've
Not phoned for at least … a week.

But this is an emergency;
Yes of course it's serious,
I'm sweating, shivering, sneezing
And feel quite delirious.

I'm running a terrible temperature,
I'm covered all over in spots,
My body aches from head to toe,
My muscles all ******* in knots.

My heart's got the palpitations,
Though I've still got a pulse - it's quite weak;
My poor throat's ever so red and sore,
It's increasingly hard ... to ... speak,  

My eyes are all glazed and weepy,
My ears are infected and blocked,
I think there's a chill in my kidneys
And my joints have all stiffened and locked.

My stools - are alarmingly liquid,
My water's grey, misty and strong,
I'm suffering pins and needles, in fact ...
I don't think I've got very long.

He can see me on Thursday morning,
An appointment for half-past-ten,
But that’s no good at all to me ...
I'll be better again - by then!

Sometimes I'd find myself awake at four in the morning with a sense of longing and I’d type this long letter for you and after moments of contemplating myself, I'd delete it. But there are times that I get really weak and I can’t help it. I miss you, I really do. This is why I’m fighting the the urge to think about you let alone write about you and yet here I am, staring at the insertion point blinking back at me.

I always thought about how the little things matter, how these tiny pieces, when put together has the ability of making us feel whole and hurt us at the same time or how they make us remember. Missing you starts from the little things that'll eventually pile up into this huge mess of feelings.
Leaving me out of control, alone in misery.

——

I hate how I remember you in the morning, when the clock strikes eight, as the warm and fuzzy early morning breeze embraces my body,
I can’t help but wonder if you’re already awake
Have you started your day with a cup of of coffee? I know that's what you usually do.
Or at least, I knew..

I remember you at noon, you've always dreaded this part of the day. At this point, the scorching heat is just overwhelming.
You hate how the noontime sun burns and makes your skin feel dry.


I remember you in the afternoon, a cup of coffee in one hand, looking up the sky from your office window, wondering why you're at work on such a lovely day.


I remember you at night, while the stars lie like blankets on the evening sky,
you're on your rooftop, finding constellations because it relaxes you, it makes you feel safe,
you've always told me about how you love the night more than day,
"It's more richly colored", that's what you'd say while i fight back the laughter



Finally, I remember you at midnight, it's in these wee hours of the night where I find myself weak,  everything is silent and almost everyone is soundly asleep.

You were the night and I was the day and even if we met halfway, it never felt right to stay.
But I've realized how painful it is to not have you around, no one could ever fill the void that you've left. I've lost a piece of myself that I could never find again

Cracking through the skin that was once soft to the touch,
Tearing at the corners of the lips you loved so much,
Breaking in the teeth that articulated softly,
Snapping of the muscles in the limbs that held you closely,
Hollowing in the eyes that glanced up at you from that comfy chair,
Dulling of the color that you once loved in my hair,
Shaking through the lungs that laughed at all your silly jokes,
Aching through the joints and bones that wrapped you up and called you home-

I want to be everything for you, but I am very limited in what I do.
If you cannot take me the way I am, then I am not deserved by you.