Oh you have worn me down.
Pressing the tips of your calloused hands against my heart.
Stop. Stop. Restart.
I can’t take much more of this.
Just as I think the last drop, the last atom is gone
‘You have me at hello?’
Well you floored me with it.
And I tried to be casual.
I promise I did.
But this heart of mine still holds your prints
And it’s held up with splints
I’m a joke. A clown.
A lingering fool.
Jelly string on a spool.
I mean nothing to you
And that’s never happened me before.
I have never been cast aside like a whore.
But you stopped me with silence.
But that silence was a roar.
I’m still sore. I’m still sore.
So why do I want more?
I look for comfort in billowing spume.
Thunderous. Luminous. Vicious.
Circular motion then thundering roar
That’s where my heart can soar.
That body. That body.
That mass. Oh my.
I can barely hear the seagulls cry.
I seek comfort in it’s swishy gurgle
Its undulating moves.
Its undertow , high and low.
I can ride this beast
But can never conquer it’s swell.
I’m driftwood .
Bobbing. Bobbing. Babbling.
Rushing to shore. Rushing to shore.
Then poof….. No more.
No more me.
Only soft yellow sands
Formed from a million things that were once tough as rock.
But are now full of footprints.
Can I dabble in you?
Stick my spoon in and sift through the liquids of your soul?
Your cauldron will bubble
Skin, nails, stubble.
I will scoop at the good bits make them float to the top
But just as you boil over
I will stop.
Simmer. Simmer. Simmer.
You know I go witch way.
That the follicles of your heart
Are mine to control
Along with your soul
And every other inch.
Pinch. Pinch. Pinch.
A bit of this and that
Added to the mix
Stirring you up
You’re froth. Broth.
Moth to my flame.
Bubble. Bubble. Pop.
This thing we have?
I’ve learned never to ask
“What are we”?
The truth is:
A little something in the evening
A soft hand on a hard place
A gentle caress of the face
Going nowhere. Nowhere to go.
This time I’m ok with that.
You don’t sing me songs, right any wrongs.
You just touch and go.
Ask me no questions
Tell me no lies
Our conversation is made up of sighs
We’re on loan. Not alone.
I don’t look for hidden gems
I don’t dig at your soul.
It is what it is.
A little something. For a little while.
Everything I did was for you, because of you
With you in mind.
Because of the possibility you might be kind.
Might want me again.
And I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t read without your heavy head on my shoulder
And I fought this terrible love
This one-sided thing
While you swayed and danced in the breeze
I was under heavy soil. Out of sun.
But those tears I shed found their way back in
and cracked my sad shell.
And now I am beanstalk and my head is in the clouds
And you are the old cow sold for magic beans.
I’ll burrow deeper into feather, into soft downy threads
Nestle and settle in a ball in this bed
Escape my head.
Escape you. All of you.
I need time at sea. Time to see.
To dream away this life of grime.
Time… so much time.
This life of traffic, of murk.
I’ll float in nothing for a while longer
Until I’m stronger
But little hands land on my head
Soft cheeks settle on my pillow
‘Are you ok mum? Are you asleep?’
For little voice I’m drawn out of the deep.
I hug little hands close to me
Under the cover
For now hibernation is over.
I lost her to the sea
To something bigger than me
To a pull that would never leave her standing
To a depth that knows no landing
No end. No end.
This pain. This pain.
I’ve lost her to the waves to the roar
To the shipwreck at their shore
I’ve lost my maiden I’ve lost her well
To that navy blue ominous swell.