You are a half beat between the thuds
A low hum behind the melody
A trickle of shadow on scorching ground
I will move towards you in the darkness
And my time will stagger to your glassy pace
A clink. A clunk. A jangle.
I crawl into cracks for you. To be with you.
I turn life on its head to be in your bed.
Thud. Ud.Thud. Ud. Thud.Ud.
That’s my heart in my ears
It’s all I hear.
You slash your way out of my skin
And it takes time to heal.
But I’m a self-harmer
My blade is a charmer.
Love’s fat weight is resting in my torso
A lolloping dollop of a hefty heart
Much too much to carry .
All the fat of yesterday’s joy so entrenched in coronory tract,
That I require a stent.
A scratching off.
A bludgeoning of debris too hardened to come away in the night.
Yours is glass.
Rubbed away easy.
A crime without grime.
Can I change mine now for a lighter model ?
One that beats with ease ?
Pretty please ?
Plastic fantastic or maybe elastic ?
Either way not lead, not filled with dread
Can I have yours instead ?
Little by little like the wild colours of Fall….your love leaves me.
Ah but there is always that last storm
The one that takes too much at once
And I am left bare and skeletal
A dark frame against a pale grey light.
Soon though. Very soon
There will be a budding and a bloom
No room for curled up love , the one that rots in the grass where once our bodies lay entwined.
No soon there will be renewal
And you won’t recognise this frame
I will be full to brim. Lush with new love
While you will disappear under Spring’s new life.
Mulch for the life that you left.
I have boundaries made of muslin cloth
Thin, flimsy only useful for wiping drool
I let everyone in and under.
Not so much a boundary as a blanket
All are welcome.
The good, the bad the meaner the better
I’ll keep you warm… ish.
And you’ll lie … with me then to me.
But as the frost sets in you will look for warmer cloth
Blankets made of stronger stuff
One that says enough is enough.
Mine stretches until it snaps.
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.