Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Violet Wade Mar 2018
It wasnt that i didnt love you
It wasnt that

It wasnt that i didnt want you
It wasnt that

It was...

It was only that my heart
Stopped beating in time with yours

That every touch
Was painful jarring

That i pulled one way,
And you another

That every kiss
Tasted like goodbye

And I knew that
I needed to leave
Because you would never send me away

It wasnt that i didnt love you
It wasnt that
Violet Wade Mar 2018
I don't need poetry

That may not be true.

But poetry certainly does not need me.
Violet Wade Mar 2018
I wish that your smell didn't still
Linger around me like a phantom
I wish that your kiss wasn't still imprinted on my cheek
Or tickling my neck like a softly woven scarf
I wish I didn't still feel your awkwardness
Clinging to me when I see friends,
That I didn't run home to the absence of your embrace every time I get scared, which is a lot since you left
Your socks sneak into my drawers
And snuggle into mine,
Folding into little laundered intimacies
It's been over year
Can you believe that?
I want to run into your arms and tell you that but I haven't touched you in longer than I care to remember.
God I miss you
I miss having a home
In your smile,
Taking comfort in the warmth of your body under my sheets.
I taste you every morning in my coffee
In my warm pumpkin salad lunches,
At dinner with wine
At all hours on my lips.
You don't know it, but you are with me as I steal expensive groceries,
You feel the thrill as I escape the checkout again.
You stole my heart, it's a clumsy metaphor but you did it,
On that first date you nicked a cheap telescope and through its blur we watched the world lose its focus,
Everything but us
Lost focus
And I still can't see it,
I can't see the world around me
And now the memories of you are blurred too,
Either by time or by the tears
I can't tell.

When I was upset you would refuse to leave me alone,
As if you were afraid I'd drown in my own tears if you weren't there to hold me up
Now I am alone and I don't even know
Whether or not I did drown
Or if I will soon
You aren't holding me up anymore,
Instead you are pulling at me desperately, painfully,
Heartbreak is jealous of every moment not consumed with it
I am still caught in the web of our codependence, spun and dried out,
No longer burning with poison
But consumed instead with empty death
Have you ever seen the shell of an insect left behind by a spider?
I have
You already know that I felt a strange solidarity with it.
Please call me back,
Even if its just to say goodbye.
I need new words to echo round my empty shell,
Words that aren't "I'd be nothing without you"
"I need you"
"I will always love you"

Please, just give me the sound of your voice saying "its over"
Or "you are beautiful,
The world is gloriously open and new when you are alone"

And you would open your arms and uncurl your fingers,
Not to embrace me,
But to finally let me go.
I am ready-please set me free.
Violet Wade Mar 2018
She said it was too heavy
  the burden of life.

She said it was too heavy
And she cast it off

And now it's too heavy to hold
     Her absence
A great aching chasm  

She soars
       Stingray spirit

I hope it doesn't hurt
          Any more.
Violet Wade Mar 2018
Don't say he ruined me.
He didn't
He took something without invitation
He stole
He sullied himself

I will not speak his name
I will not give him power

I will not have you define me
By his actions

I am not lessened
Or depraved
By his trespass

I am simply angry
At his presumption
That by taking from me
He would have me

I am not a possession
I am not to be owned

I am still my own agent
And his name shall not be spoken with mine
Violet Wade Mar 2018
the night bows
    to the darkening moon
        crickets sing
            in rhythmic prayer
                 the air seems to hum
                    and float thicker about us
                        in awe of luna’s pull
                          the brightness of night
                          succumbs eerily,
                      but with a deep
                    and resounding
            that beats from our own hearts
       as the moon is swallowed
in rusty shadows
Violet Wade Mar 2018
We are so busy hiding our scars
That we do not realise they make us who we are
I am not a motorbike accident
Or a continuous bumping into cabinets

But I AM what survived

These imperfections are testament
That I am still alive

I could ramble and rhyme
Keeping time
With an inane Bush poetry beat

But the truth is more profound
than predictable rhythms

Wearing these scars is more proof
Than I will ever need
That I have truly fought to be free
Next page