And I thought of you
As I always do
When there is silence and void.
I suppose you filled those once.
I remember the ways you held me
Those cold nights in your embrace
Your beard in my face.
I must have read lies in your thumbs
My brain went numb.
Lies in your licking
Your gentle slapping.
It was all a dream.
No beard just stubble.
You cut me out as you would your nails
A half thought before breakfast
A tick on your to-do list.
Maybe that’s why I’m pissed.
I was left seeking more.
More than a cut.
More than a snip.
But all I was to you was a
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.
I will follow you like a whimper
Soft and sad. Slobbering on your shoulder.
You hate the way my nostrils flare
The way my face puffs when I cry
I’m a useless jelly
A wobbling mass
“Silly Billy.Silly Billy.”
You say it with no hint of light
No glint of love.
You have nothing else to say.
And I have nowhere else to go.
Blow me out.
Just keep exhaling.
You know we’re failing.
Do it. Until I am no more than a distant mist.
I’ll turn to cloud and then to rain.
Either way I’ll end up in a drain.
But maybe just maybe..
I will fall in a stream.
Or end up in someone’s soaking dream.
So blow me. Blow me well.
Because your breath is purgatory but your lungs are hell.
And when I die you can reveal my name
And they’ll say: “I didn’t realise she was so sad.”
But aren’t we all?
(Some more than most)
There’s torment in the pit of me
And this tight ball of fear won’t disappear
I sit, consumed with worry
I can’t quite get a grip
These thoughts that dangle from my brain
Are covered in spiders.
Yesterday I bounced on land
Now I sink into quicksand
Is anyone else the same?
Or am I all alone in this video game?
The doctor dismissed me by being gruff
Doesn’t he know I’ve had enough?
Nothing again will fill me with cheer.
I have nothing to worry about
But everything to fear
I’m in a self-induced coma
I can’t cope with this life
So I’ll shut it out for now
Stop paying attention
Turn off the TV
Smother the radio
Try to find joy inside
Hope that my childish notion of happy endings
Can still come true.
” Stop the world I want to get off?”
Nah… just stop the noise.