[POEM] Overturned evenings

Fingertips lace against the thin film of sleep
Endlessly and without successful reverie
And she keeps her eyes wide open, in hope
She will spot the sandman knocking at her door.

Cold air washes over her old bones left in the
Mortal realm of consciousness. She wilts,
A broken flower that feeds on starlight in her
Dreams. She begins to weaken into herself daily.

Bleached beneath alter darkness, skin flushes
With desperation. Mind forgets and numbs as
Pill after pill tumbles past her lips and down the
Cavern of her throat. Her roots are stuck in her bed.

Alone, as anyone beneath moonlight with wide
Quiet eyes always is. Her brown orbs hush deeply.
The silence echoes around her as her heart begs.
Let me visit my dreams once more. Let me live.

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[POEM] .

I can feel their grip tightening today.
Where reality becomes as tenuous
As the breath from my imagined
Demons. Which should I turn
My cheek to?

Reaching for their overdue pay.
They make living just as arduous
As the dreams that blackened
My heart. How should I burn
My sins away?

I curl myself into comforts that
Stretch as far as time, but penetrate
Shallow into my soul. When will
I be whole. When should I battle
For my life?

Vision turns angled and flat.
Sounds bombard me and reverberate
Through bleached bones. My pill
Won’t make me whole. Who will rattle
My chains for freedom?

Darkness and coffin surround
Me unseen, until I bury myself,
With only my imagination to weep
At my death. What has this
Sorry life become?

[POEM] Sometimes

It still strikes within my broken body
When I had thought it was dying a death.

It turns, grinning and moving wildly
And reminds me of its depth and breadth.

All consuming, it pushes in madly
Demanding I give it each ragged breath.

All sense of time and true reality
Leaves me, as does my soul’s wealth.

I love you

And though we are only away from each other for a few days, I feel the distance already tearing at my chest.

As if the miles push the pain of your absence deeper into my soul, with their hefty weight.

I will return to you soon. Know that I am missing you with each minute, in beautiful pain for your love.

[POEM] Dusk lances

Footfalls unbidden, ruffling dusted lanes.
Heavy, unabashed. Soft loudness
Brushes against the leaves of living
Trees, surrounding the dusk light.
She saw their frame close in to her.
Enfold around her as her eyes widened.

The trumpets of war sounded as her
Steps came to a halt. At first echoes
Were enough, but soon Apollo would
Not allow just a gentle thrum within
Her ears. Birds twittered, swelling
Sounds of earth and rock and life.

Noise rooted her. Slowly Deafening.
Her eyes stared as Dusk lanced
Into her heart, golden and muted
Purple with poison. She watched.
As she died, she watched.
As the sky fell into her empty chest.

Her void heart had begged for this
Living death. Tears dripped, thick,
From her empty eyes. The sky
Wept with her from cloudless depths:
“Sky child your time is done. Come
Back to my cold heights in love.”

Knees buckles, skin bled as limp
Body slumped to the ground. She
Felt herself drift away, to the sky,
To its mellowing darkness and lofty
Heights. Forever. And he would have
To find her. Hidden, in plain sight, behind a cloudless sky.

 

[POEM] Tell me

Tell me how I should love you, while
Numb to the tips of my fingers and toes.
Tell me how I should feel one with you,
Though I am a shattered creation by myself.
Tell me how you survive on such meagre
Rations as hope. Gruel in replacement for
The constant love I once gave to you.

Tell me how I should love you, me
Who is full of hate and black storms.
Tell me how I should feel when I can’t
Even touch your skin without sorrow.
Tell me how you continue to hold stars
In your eyes for me when I am nought
But uncertainty and suffering.

Tell me how I used to love you, with
Clutching hands and certain chest.
Tell me how I used to feel, your soft
Skin quickening and comforting at once.
Tell me how you felt when you first
Found out that my soul was dying, and
Fast behind it was racing my heart.

I will tell you I love you, soon,
And know I mean it to my depths.
I will feel you, whole, and become lost
In your world of faeries and darkness.
You will wonder how we could have
Ever been otherwise, you and I.
You probably already do.

How we could have ever been full of love,
When now you are time and patience, and
I am pain. Shadow beaten pain.

[POEM]

Mindless box kept aloft on strength
Built on years of plugging on
Without thought. Without sense.
What other strength is there,
Besides this fog of desensitization?
What other meaning besides making
It through and back to the Earth
As unscathed as humanly possible.
And taking the longest to get there.

Head hung, weighltess atop this
Weighty body. Power built for what?
Not for any real purpose, not for
The battle she keeps expecting to come.
She has trained the wrong muscle.
Left her brain and feelings to rot
Beneath the leachings of modern
Disease, not so modern and just
Crossed wires of back then and now.

Hopeless, and waiting for a pill to
Numb this numbness she has
Built to survive. Built to revive
Herself from the pain, but she does
Not remember that fire and ashes
Bring new life, not soft and safe
Surroundings.

Build your nest on needles and sheer
Cliffs, young bird, and watch yourself
Die.

[POEM] Stepping into Love

One footstep, controlled and measured
Brings me forward for your inspection.
Eyes dart from sharp to eventually pleasured
Gaze. It’s odd, your soul is my reflection.

Looks were all we had at first, and words.
Oh so many words. Tumbling out desperately
Trying to convey how close our worlds
Want to be. We joined together so perfectly.

Head rested on arm, and words quelled
Behind kisses. Breath ran hot. Finally.
I looked into your eyes, and they spelled
Out how fallen love had made me lonely.

I picked your laugh, your smile, every
Gentle and kind detail of you. I chose
To take your darkness, too. The very
Shadows that could strike fear. Yes, those.

Those fearful heartbeats with soundless
Energy that you can’t even communicate
To your shared soul, me. Oh countless
Times you’ve closed off like an iron gate.

But I know you. There is comfort in
Knowing you. Solace in touching even
The parts you hate. And I will sin
With you, forever. Because chosen love is something I believe in.

 

[Writing] About Today

“About Today”

She was a pirate, with sword in hand and had dipping low on her face. Too big for her, grin full of trouble and hands full of flair and swind.

She was running, Grass whirring past her bare feet. Leaping, dodging, laughing into the still air that she whipped into a breeze.

She was a writer, sat in her retreat, pen on paper and mind stuck on a story she couldn’t quite get out into the world. But dammit she would try.

Her hand lifted up and the gun shot. A harmless pellet rang out and a cry of laughter erupted.

She was a space pilot, decked in spandex in a sombre suit. Her stern features carved from a stalwart stone of stubborn determination.

He whizzed past and shot back, more laughter, and the sound of his voice singing along with the birds in bliss.

She was a singer, alone in a room without an audience, clad in her dreams and eyes shut and drowning to the world. But not so alone, one figure sitting and watching her from the dark theatre and letting her pained voice embalm him.

She tumbled to the grass. He tumbled down with her, wrestling away the gun. Fledglings that they were, all they had was laughter, and each other in the open air.

She was a warrior. Armor shone, tarnished from recent battle. Stern sadness was in her eyes and loss echoed from the glint of her eyes and the blood on her sword. Her shield hung in one limp hand.

They looked at eachother, her atop him as she regained her toy gun and his. Both were dropped, and her hands were busy reaching for his heart as the music tinkled gently around them.

[And I just watched you.]

She was walking. Rows of houses on either side in the cold darkness. Uneven paving tumbled below her feet, the thick block of her heel clumping along with the music she had turned up to drown out the world. Her eyes saw everything, but nothing. Her feet kept steady pace. A cat ran past her path and she bent to offer out her hand. It ran off.

The music became louder. The drum beats fierce, but they weren’t supposed to be.

She shielded her eyes from a sudden house light, and looked around. She was alone in the neighbourhood street.

Another light. Pounding, she raised up both arms in defence as they came up with each deafening beat in her ear. Her face went from dreaming to scared. Things began to rush past her, not cats. Shadows. Things. Lights, Movement. Not tangible. They started to crowd her as they fled past and away and ignoring the pain scratching at her ribcage.

She was drenched in the lights, beckoning down on her and judging, and her face was torn. She felt the chaos of her brain on the outside of her body pressing in. These whirring, sprinting lights and shadows. They were London, they were Singapore, they were Istanbul and Paris. They were all the quiet places, too, where her mind screamed the most. Normandie, Boulogne, Oxford, her room. Her dozens of rooms where she had sat trapped away from the judging gaze of the lights.

The Pirate was a girl with a hat too large, and a roll of used wrapping paper in one hand.

She crouched and huddled faster away from the lights, feeling the scream inside of her.

The writer was a girl bunched up on a seat in the tube, scribbling in frustration at a page that simply wouldn’t come to life like her mind.

She hid her face from the glaring lights, eyes burning so hard that tears began to well between her lashes, the music overpowering everything inside of her.

The pilot was a girl with that toy gun, standing in preparation, thinking of the world and how it wanted to hurt her.

Her lips opened in a silent sob, as her hands clawed around her own head, stuck in this reverie of a nightmare.

The singer was a girl in the shower, singing out all of the sorrow and heart she felt, alone, with no one there to see her. See her.

Her body huddled as far into itself as it could, and there seemed no retreating as everything else carried on around her, whirring so close that these shadow people almost knocked her over, and the lights of the imagined headlamps threatened to run her down.

The warrior was just a girl. She had no weapons. But she felt loss, and the scars on her body were just as real as she stood there in her shorts and t-shirt. Thighs and wrists revealed the battle that raged so hidden and silently in her twisted mind.

Her final moment had footsteps. Not her own, but another set she couldn’t hear past the beating drums and the words repeating over and over again in her headphones, in her brain. It was always rushing past her and leaving her in the depths of a darkness she could not fathom in these brumy pits of despair.

The girl was gone. She could not weep loudly, or openly, but hid behind her clawed hands and behind the scars. Behind the hard exterior as she broke down without warning.

A hand.

She felt it before she saw it, though it never touched her. Her eyes peeked out from behind her barrier, pale in the lights that blinded her. She was always blind to the world. Always.

The figure was a calm shadow, a respite from the judging lights and darks that screamed down at her to stop pretending, to stop dreaming. To stop living. It was quiet, and sad. And the music was unbearable.

She took the hand, and the lights were all gone. The dashing, the glaring, the flaring of her mind on the outside. Gone. She saw him. He saw her. And he helped her to her unsteady feet. It was a pause. It was a quiet.

“Pick up your shield”.

He nodded down at the dropped handbag on the ground, keeping her hand so tightly in his, she thought he might crush it. She thought that his voice might break with soft, worried tenderness.

She picked it up. Her shield. But really, as he pulled her to his chest, he was her shield. She smothered into it, silent tears and invisible cries muffled against it as she was held in those arms.

She saw him. And he saw her.

[Tonight. You just close your eyes. And I just watch you. Slip away.How close am I. To losing you.

Hey? Are you awake. Yeah I’m right here. How can I ask you. About Today?

How close am I. To losing you. How close am I. To losin’.]

In the midst of uncertainty, without the lights of judgement baring down, they went home. Already in a separate world.

[POEM] Better Love – Hozier

How do we know how alone we are?
Is it when we trust ourselves into a stranger’s arms?
Is it when we realize that trust only extends to the blink of an eye?
Or maybe when we finally release and fall into the burning sky.

Only you. You whose heart is so open.
Open to me and closed to the pain that intimacy brings.
Weeping from the back of my world of eternal, painful sleep.
There’s no better love waiting for this pitiful soul to keep.

Just justify me with a diagnosis, whole.
Just give me the pills I need and throw me to the cold.
We all deserve better love than disposable prescriptions.
It beckons to me, a soldier left to the conscription.

And you’ll watch me. Falling away from grace.
Looking up to heaven, just empty, heavy outer space.
I once hoped, shaken through with every tear and breath
Hush a bye honey, and keep lying for the purpose of death.

Knowing how alone we are, how known we are.
There is no better love for us sitting here in mortality.
All diseased but clutching the cure to ourselves selfishnly.
We run in circles, chasing our own pain endlessly.

Our truth will be burned from History, even as
Each one of us screams “WITNESS ME” into the black.
Void, so vast it burns us away from the books. Paper meaningless
And stained. Justified is this death, and these actions with the words:
We didn’t know any better.