On a day like this I go the extra mile
For a smile
A little more lippy
So you can’t see the pain
You might even think I’m vain.
“Nothing wrong with you , you look fine”
But I’m good at faking it
Years of honing
I have it down to a fine art.
I play the part well
To conceal my hell.
So if you see my in the street
I may seem really cheery
But inside I’m nothing but weary.
There is a crack that knows, no repair.
The final blow before you split.
The one that determines whether you can ever look at each other the same way again
How deep is the ridge left in you?
How fractured is your spirit ?
How can you be the same when altered to your foundations?
Careful my dear.
Your silence is hammer
And it wears me down to nothingness.
Spaghetti words just slip out your mouth
Through your teeth
Oily and filling for those who are willing
They stuck in my guts
A minute on the lips forever in the soul
Or something like that
Either way I’m bloated with them
And I can’t seem to shift this weight
But I’ll do it slowly
This was just a faze
You may be spaghetti
But you are not the Bolognese.
All I have is time to think
And I used to feel bad for that.
But blessed are the thinkers, the thoughtful.
We do it for those who don’t have time
To ponder the sublime
Those who toil in mortal coil.
Who plough the heavy soil.
Oh but I am not made of heaven yet
My coil is weak so my soul must be light
I fight in theories and rings surrounded by ropes of a million philosophies.
I see the patterns in a web you weave
Because I can leave. I can pause for thought.
So blessed are the workers ,the feeders the bleeders the strong
Those who think they can do no wrong
Those who move without thinking
Because stopping is sinking.
But the heavens are lit by weaker creatures like me
Whose bodies are not cut of diamonds but whose minds are made to shine
My pushups are of a different muscles
A strength built up for a different core
My legs might be heavy
But my mind doth soar.
It’s dire this open fire
This unguarded flame
I will always be the same
Open at the hearth
Allowing you to throw rubbish on my light
You fuel me, yes
But eventually I burn out.
Ah but not without a spark here and there.
Not without some flare.
All I want to do is sleep
Because being without you is being stuck to the hands of a clock
I feel every second jolt my core
Time isn’t like before.
It used to fly. Remember?
Just yesterday I floated on weightless sand
Upside down in an hourglass
Then right back up again.
Now it’s just circles.
And they never fucking end.
Originally posted Feb 2018
I saw glitter.
Before there was mud
There was shine.
I saw sparkle and glimmer
Bursting out of your chest
So screw the rest.
What came after.
I’m going to remember the Gold
Not the dust.
I will try to blow it away at least.
Before you were beast
And when I was beauty.
I saw glitter my love.
And I know it’s still there.
You must care.
At least dare to.