There is a crack that knows, no repair.
The final blow before you split.
The one that determines whether you can ever look at each other the same way again
How deep is the ridge left in you?
How fractured is your spirit ?
How can you be the same when altered to your foundations?
Careful my dear.
Your silence is hammer
And it wears me down to nothingness.
Spaghetti words just slip out your mouth
Through your teeth
Oily and filling for those who are willing
They stuck in my guts
A minute on the lips forever in the soul
Or something like that
Either way I’m bloated with them
And I can’t seem to shift this weight
But I’ll do it slowly
This was just a faze
You may be spaghetti
But you are not the Bolognese.
I vomited words
All over my page. All over you.
If only I could wash them off.
But they just keep coming
This awful bug of mine.
Stop. Stop. Stop me.
I’m trying to write you back.
Write the wrong.
Except I don’t know who is worse.
You or the curse ?
The plague of being in love with love
Let’s be honest it’s me not you.
You could be anyone.
So really I need to stop.
I’m just addicted to convincing
And maybe you know that.
I think you’re the same.
Enough with this game….
Are you sure you don’t want me?
It will eat you up
It will swallow you up
Careful now because you will appear the same
But inside you will be gone.
The old you.
The light you. The bright you.
You keep skirting the edges and you will get sucked in.
But this time the worm will be gone
And you will be suspended
Your looks will fade my love
And all the endless preening will come to naught
I was once like you
In other flames, my comfort sought
I let my fire dwindle while I stoked theirs.
And danced like a dervish and whirled through their stares.
Slow it was, the creeping decay
Which turned copper to rust
Grass to hay.
Until one day they looked no more.
And my inner workings were merely gore.
Left uncared for … my brain did rot
And thus it is….my unhappy lot.
So dance my pretty
I’m not saying no
But keep your inner fire burning
Because your looks will go.
Originally posted May 2017.
Torpedo love bore holes in my comfortable life
Now I can’t remember how I ever enjoyed being alone
Torpedo love, blew away the cobwebs in my soul.
But there is still a spider. Incy. Wincy.
Ever so slowly. Ever so softly.
Torpedo love turned me to goo
But the arachnid is you.
Too late now for me. Too late.
I cannot move. I can feel its breath.
Torpedo love is made for death.
You make me mean. Unclean.
I want to wash off the hateful things I say
Make them go away.
You bring out my demons. The ones I hold inside
The ones I successfully hide.
From everyone. But you.
You are a poultice on this ravaged heart.
Right from the very start.
I know you. I know you well.
You are my hell.
Only because we’re cut from the same dough.
The same heart. The same head.
We’re both gingerbread.
Except it’s not the crocodile that eats us.
We eat each other up whole.
Heart to soul.