It's not me, it's you
I know that excuse
When you're the one before the one
You're the coach, not the prize
You teach a man to fish and you've fed him for his life
You teach a man to love, you've prepared him for his wife

And that's great
And that's fine
They deserve a happy life
But why wasn't I
Good enough for you to try?

You always carried me home with your gaze
In your laughter I could float freely with all my fears left to drown in the sea of your reassurances
I slept in my dreams clutching the threads of my tears
So that in my wakefulness,
I can embroider them onto the fabric of a forgotten past
To keep the memory of your name within reach
So that when I whisper it into the sea breeze
Everything once cultivated grows inside of me
And a garden scape of indescribable ease
Is complete with streams of water that run
from your heart to my shaking hands

Drifting deeper into this September dust
It’s been a thousand nights of wide open eyes
Waking up to sounds of December dreams
Your hands shaking in this frail wind
As you try to steady your heart beat
To match the stagnancy of these cold encounters
But the little things hurt too much
And the little thoughts dissolve into your atmosphere
Faster then the rain on your skin
Drifting deep into these November nights
A thousand days of rehearsing the right words to say
When all the words you knew too well are too big to house in these hours you dwell in
So you sink into this mud made of spring
Running from a winter that craves your honesty
Your reflections sit here in this fractured mirror
Waiting for you to break this inner silence

You stand on one side of this
Mountain,
And I stand here,
Where fields of memorial Howers grow
Where colours blend into cobblestoned paths
To make hopscotch grids,
And carry children's laughs
Tell me where you go
When I try to reach out
For your cold hands
How easily you fade to memory
How easily It all fades to black
I find myself far from this mountain
Back into my restless eyes
Where I left reflections
Of you, my dear past.

even as adults
given two magnets
we will strive
to force
each matching pole
together
with all
that can be mustered

we learnt
from a young age
that this would not
be possible
and yet
despite this
we would still
push
and
push
until the tips
finally touched
only
to burst apart
as soon as
our grip
was relaxed

it seems we understood
but
would not accept

there is no point
in trying to force
a connection;
it cannot
and will not
last

I liked today...

I had a peaceful rest,
Carefree laughs,
And held hands
With someone who cares

It may happen again,
But I want to remain with this feeling,
Just for a little longer...

I hope I like tomorrow as well.

the sky was grey and i couldn't feel my body.
my head was heavier than suburban slammed doors,
and the presence of sidewalk strangers
sent trembles of panic through to my core.
my ears are already pierced,
but i winced at high school football whistles
and garbage trucks
and rattling engines
and raised voices.

do you remember the museum?
do you remember burying your head in your dad's shoulder
because the world they warned you about
was too grey for your hazel eyes and golden soul?

don't forget.
it is not a world you have to live in.
you must not find safety in greyness.
there is none for you there

autumn reflections
wrinkled leaves wrinkled faces
mourning dead leaves




Mark Toney © 2021