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.
Can you hug the blood of me ?
There is a need so deep that only the excavation of bone will do.
Dig my dear.
Love the entrails of me because they have been abandoned of late.
I fear you all are more in thrall with the light cover that shields the rest.
So I ask you to bury down past the soft yielding outer layer.
The one that pleases the eye and fingertips.
Kiss and love beyond the lips and curvy hips.
Sink into the dirt of me.
Land in quicksand but stay still
Then I know you will
Stay. Forever. Stay.
Floral and flouncy she brushes through,
Energy radiating from her like a tiny perfect tornado.
Lift me up. I need her to lift me up.
I am silt today. No good to anyone.
A bloated mass of drained out goodness.
Whirl me pretty thing.
Remind me that I like to sing.
I do faintly recall, dabbing oils behind my ears
And popping colour on my lips.
But today I am grey.
I think I have no place in this picture.
I want to want it.
I want to crave the light.
But I have no sight.
She is the only link to what I once was.
If she were a color she wouldn’t stay between the lines.
She bleeds through pages and it is her blood I need.
Feed. Feed me.
See more. See more.
I need to see more.
A ladle of silky contentment poured over my shoulders
Here it was. The moment I had been waiting for.
Nothing in particular but everything at the same time.
A smooth, settling in the pit of my stomach
A filling of a chasm
Was it the sun ?
The fulfillment of all my wishes ?
Or was it just that you washed the dishes ?
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..
“I think God is the first person who died”
That’s what my seven year old said as he we played together.
Wow. Wow. Wow.
I had never considered that.
Also I had never considered the very first person who died.
Where was their heaven if one believes in such things ?
Who greeted them in that tunnel of light ?
No prophet yet born. No lamb of God shorn.
Was it the Devil ?
That doesn’t seem fair.
Sent to his lair.
Or hers. For just being first.
Man or woman ? Was it Adam or Eve?
Whatever you believe. Somebody was the first to go.
The first to leave.
Before all the fuss of what to follow
Makes it all seem hollow.
Dare I say silly ?
Dare I ?