There’s a word for someone like you
But I haven’t found it yet
What you are is not in my vocabulary
I was never taught the rules by which you play
The map by which you live
There’s a word for you, there has to be
I’m not sure what it is
As I’m not sure what you are.
There’s a whisper on the wind since the first time we kissed
Nar… Nar… Narcissist.
I won’t go where you want me to. Won’t lie where you think I will.
I am always on the sill.
I will stand on your shoulders and when you can no longer bear it
I will take hold of a branch and climb like an ape.
Up, up, up, I will go.
You’re too slow
You can’t hold on,you see?
I am earth and sky.
I walk. I fly.
Unable to be pinned.
Tuna not tinned.
To swim in the sea.
Animal. Cannibal. Bird.
I move with the herd.
You lag behind my friend.
I’m not saying it’s the end.
It’s definitely not the beginning.
Somewhere in the middle.
Somewhere wild and open
Don’t ruin it with ‘hopin’.
(c)Slumpless(originally posted 30.03.17)
I swallowed my pride
I let you be snide
I bit my tongue. I bit my tongue.
I allowed you to lecture me
I allowed you to scold
As if I was four years old.
I know I’m not perfect.
I’m not perfect.
You can’t help yourself though.
You give with one hand
While your teeth bite away the gift.
Causing a rift.
Another gift. Another rift.
I hate asking for help.
I hate having to beg
I don’t think you mean it
There are a million lessons you need to teach
But it comes out all preach.
Get off that podium.
Speak to me face to face.
Not the disgrace you make me.
You made me.
YOU made me.
Rest not on your laurels
Always be ready to run or retreat
The hand that fed you and cupped your breast
Can tighten its fingers around your neck.
Your nest may have feathers now
But remember the twigs
Sooner or later they can snap
And so will you and all you built.
So rest easy for now. You’re allowed pause
But always be ready with your get out claws
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 ?
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