Bring me cider and crisps
And those little biscuits I love
I want to sit by the river
And drink like we used to.
Run your fingertips up my arm
Just to the top of my shoulder
Each day getting bolder
And kiss like we used to.
Let the sun burn my neck
What the heck ?
I was destined to leave either way.
Let us lie side by side
In the meadow deep and wild
Look me in the eyes and pretend we have forever
Just like we used to.
Please, like we used to.
Half finished knitting, lying like a sad multicolored cat on the table.
A half crudely cut curtain grimacing at me from the shadows
Projects I intend to finish but never do.
I do things by halves. Perfect halves.
That’s heart and soul and pieces of flesh.
And that’s why I’m finished. Complete.
You came into this halfheartedly.
And now I am at a loose end.
I cannot read others’ emotions
They weigh too heavy on me
The words nestle too long in my sad soul
I cannot take in extra luggage
I cannot carry the heaviness of a thousand writers
All I can do is emit, expel to propel.
I can only hope that a lighter heart can share my burden or at least let my words wash through them.
I am much too much a sieve.
I am too easily spent with others
You wanted me to straddle.
A limb in each corner.
One burning with the uninhibited heat
The other, pale in life’s banal never-ending joke.
You enjoyed the tearing, the pulling apart
Not of my body.
Ah but of my dreams.
Do you know what torn hopes look like ?
They are jagged. Shorn. Shook from their mother’s milken tit.
Left to mew in the icy shadow of your shrug.
But I am made of moss and I flourish where roses die.
I don’t cry.
Not for you, you wicked thing.
Made worse by no awareness of your hacking.
A shears sheds no tears when flowers fall.
But I am no flower.
I am the tower.
So shears to you my dear.
Make sure you look me in the eye.
No not down there. Up. Up in the sky.
I found perturbed slumber in between the craggy folds of an old blanket
Nestled into a dark room wishing it were smaller.
Only a cocoon would do the trick ,
Tighten around me and let me rest while I grew and changed.
Instead I settle for fitful sleep
Where all the lies you ever told
Make me see there was no baseline with you.
“Hello”, could mean anything.
The intent of your very smile
Will keep me wondering.
But only for a while.
I squandered my dreams on you already
And it’s giving me no good answer, no peace.
So I make my own.
No need for you to explain.
I understand more than you think
And I think more than you can ever understand.
I know what you are. Not of my earth or air.
I would dissect you further but I really don’t care.
This time I take full blame
For playing your game.
I can’t pretend I didn’t see the outcome
Oh and out it came.
The beautiful, searing truth.
The kind that wakes you in the night with disbelief.
I did that before.
How could you be so … so…
So fucking awful. So fucking you.
So fucking what ?
There are no surprises.
So I take full blame.
Add it to the list
Of things that keep happening
With a narcissist.
The glass lunchbox I borrowed
Had its own status
Set above the peevish plastic of my own foolish purchases.
He picked it for his lunch
The kids chose it for snacks
Somehow it tasted better.
It shone outside of the dishwasher.
While its counterparts became glum and lost their gloss, it just continued to sparkle.
It was better. Better at everything.
A glimpse into a kitchen where everything had its own seamless role
While mine just melted and lost its shape.