I mourn the flesh of her
The weighty warmth of smooth limbs on my back
The delicate scent of hair in my mouth.
I miss the teeth of her.
The laugh she kept for me
The languid repose of her on a Sunday morning.
I miss her mind of course
But it is the flesh of her that leaves its searing emptiness in my soul.
I hug a pillow but it gives beneath my touch
And it is cold.
I wonder is she cold too ?
I close my eyes but all I see is bone. Bones.
The smooth skin going,going. Gone.
It’s all wrong. Without her.
Why do my lungs not give up ?
I think my heart has.
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
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.
Every night we learn to die,
to forget the mass of flesh and bone
and travel beyond the realms of our perceived lives.
Every closing of the eyes,we leave and live a million lives.
A jumble of different things
Some formed of unfinished thoughts
Others with nothing we have seen before.
Every night we learn the abandonment of a cage we call home,
Yet we fear the day when there is no return.
So I learn to think of death as I would a house move.
Not as close to those I once lived near but still in their sphere.
Not all alone
But in a new home.
Ah but there were moments
Tossed in golden light
Moments of hands and legs and lips.
Perhaps all is not lost
Am I willing to forsake the black for the white
The dark for the light.
Afterall no one is all sunshine
Certainly not me
And especially not you.
So am I willing to let dogs lie and wake up with fleas?
Just for a shake of the knees ?
When one is made of stardust..
Never say never.
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.