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Mark Ball Nov 2014
Come misty-mouthed girl,
To a not so wonderful world.
Make me forget.
The investment of the other within me
has come to fill me with regret.

O take me back to before I could see all their flaws,
Before the familiarity of friendship clouded our view.
Back to when I could have believed in this so called 'love',
And could have believed in you.

Now a thick, dense obsession rises day to day
from within locked cupboards.
But not the naive, self-named kind of days once past;
The kind that clings to your personality
Like your sugar stained teeth the morning after cider;
A repulsive grit.

But I am looking for you.
Not an emissary of my misery,
But an idiosyncratic icon of
My ignorant days before I knew of
Poems, plays or 'Liberation'.
Just come and be my salvation.

My misty-mouthed girl.

— The End —