I heard it in the ears, for years and years
But it always ended at the drum.
Just a word that vibrated through the air and happened upon me.
But only when you were gone for good
Did it travel to my blood.
Dead. Death. Die.
Oh how I used to cry.
At movies but no tears have flown for you.
Inside me is as still as your corpse
No movement except those words.
To Drum. To Blood. To Numb.
I see werewolves in my sleep
Creatures that change with the moon
Just like me.
A howling force to be reckoned with.
Do you hear the pulsing tide?
There is a splashing sensation that will carry blood on its back.
Come now to the door and howl with me.
Not a whimper nor a simper
But a full blown, lung-fuelled roar.
Because there is more. Always more.
Once upon a time there was a sphere
floating and spinning in the blackest of nights.
On this sphere lived a people whose need to survive depended on a translucent potion which fell from their skies and only their skies .
They also required a rare combination of minerals and vitamins which they could consume from strange creatures which also inhabited this round rock. Some of these creatures even became loyal to them and lived alongside them like family.
These people had an amazing superpower which allowed them to thrive above all creatures and create special crafts that could fly high high and others which could go deep under the translucent basins which dotted their world.
They made special portals which could link their minds over huge spaces and meant that no matter where they went they could speak to whoever they wished.
They could make amazing sounds come out of apparatuses which they fashioned from elements around them. And often they would move involuntarily to these sounds.
Every piece of these people was intricately made and seemed to function as if by …..
“Magic ? Was it magic mother ?”
Of course it was magic my love but the strangest thing about it all is that most of them didn’t believe.
There’s a long luscious list of reasons we should
But a jagged emporium of poisonous consequences
Jars upon jars upon shelves upon walls
Filled with outcomes. Black outcomes.
They swirl around like mini-galaxies
Holding us both hostage to our decisions.
It’s not just one you see?
All the things that led us here
A million ways we can go wrong
Let’s sit here for a while. On the safe floor.
In the room without a door.
Where the only way out
I cannot but note the checkered path you walk.
Light. Shadow. Light. Shadow.
Both in equal measure
Casting pain then dispersing pleasure.
It is this half life you lead
One foot in Heaven, the other in Hell.
Heaven. Hell. Heaven. Hell.
The veil between the two
Means nothing to you.
You never ask
In which pool I bask?
The tepid water is not for me.
I require the sea.
The clean, mean, wash of a million waves
Save. Safe. Saves
This is not a mermaid’s tale.
It is my story. My glory.
I won’t sit on a rock and comb my hair
Looking to you for all my air.
So If you wish to swim by my side.
Then pick one.
I asked myself for the hundredth time
What will I do ? What will I do ?
Should I ? Could I ? May I ?
I looked to you for a pat on the head
Each nod another nail in my scaffolding.
Each an apparent strengthening of a weak structure underneath.
I was under the illusion that you kept me up.
But meanwhile a quiet hand was busy inside
Putting cement in the cracks
Strengthening the original.
A soft whisper reminding me that once I stood alone.
No outside work necessary to hold my bones.
Little by little I dismantled your hold
The nails weren’t even fully in.
The wood you used was weak
The metal bars prone to leaks.
So when you fell, I didn’t fall
I had no need for an outer wall
The stone and rock that made me… me
Had been enough but I didn’t see
I looked to others for so much approval
Yet was strong enough after their removal
The walls I had were strong not frail
Without the input of your nails.
Calling all “chickens and cowards”
Calling all those who are afraid
Calling all who lie awake at night
And who sleep through the day
It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok.
I am you. You are me.
We may never be free.
We may never walk unshackled in the meadows
Jump off the cliff into the sea.
That’s ok. That’s ok. That’s ok.
But you are reading me.
And I am reading you.
We don’t need constant light
To write. To right. To write.
So put down the whip you use on your back
The one that tells you , you are not good enough
Put down the app that makes you feel you are not living your best life
You are living.
Day by day. Minute by minute. Second to second.
You are a warrior. Fighting your own war.
The fear you feel is not your fault
Do not go gently into the vault
Take it. Wield it. Continue to fight.
If all else fails..