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
I know you stranger.
I know the danger.
I see it in a million things you do
A glassy gloam to the eye
When anybody else is talking.
I’d swear you’re in hibernate mode.
You act it well though…
You nearly had us convinced.
And the tears when you’re found out ?
Well our hearts are not made of stone.
Still though our brains have learned the hard way.
We now protect.
We make up for what you lacked.
No contact….No contact. …No!
You wanted me to straddle.
A limb in each corner.
One burning with the uninhibited heat
The other, pale in life’s banal never-ending joke.
You enjoyed the tearing, the pulling apart
Not of my body.
Ah but of my dreams.
Do you know what torn hopes look like ?
They are jagged. Shorn. Shook from their mother’s milken tit.
Left to mew in the icy shadow of your shrug.
But I am made of moss and I flourish where roses die.
I don’t cry.
Not for you, you wicked thing.
Made worse by no awareness of your hacking.
A shears sheds no tears when flowers fall.
But I am no flower.
I am the tower.
So shears to you my dear.
Make sure you look me in the eye.
No not down there. Up. Up in the sky.
I found perturbed slumber in between the craggy folds of an old blanket
Nestled into a dark room wishing it were smaller.
Only a cocoon would do the trick ,
Tighten around me and let me rest while I grew and changed.
Instead I settle for fitful sleep
Where all the lies you ever told
Make me see there was no baseline with you.
“Hello”, could mean anything.
The intent of your very smile
Will keep me wondering.
But only for a while.
I squandered my dreams on you already
And it’s giving me no good answer, no peace.
So I make my own.
No need for you to explain.
I understand more than you think
And I think more than you can ever understand.
I know what you are. Not of my earth or air.
I would dissect you further but I really don’t care.
I carried marbles when I was with you
I held tiny , the worlds that I should have lived
But when I let go and they scattered
I wasn’t empty. I wasn’t shattered.
I watched each roll about its shiny way
And I knew I would be ok
I hadn’t lost my marbles
I had set them free
Tiny worlds away from thee
Little spheres of perfect glass
To show me the insignificance of what did pass
There was never an us
Just you. Just me.
I didn’t lose my marbles
I set them free.
This time I take full blame
For playing your game.
I can’t pretend I didn’t see the outcome
Oh and out it came.
The beautiful, searing truth.
The kind that wakes you in the night with disbelief.
I did that before.
How could you be so … so…
So fucking awful. So fucking you.
So fucking what ?
There are no surprises.
So I take full blame.
Add it to the list
Of things that keep happening
With a narcissist.