i see the lights fill the sky, illuminating the black. now painted is a picture in which i’ve captured in my mind to sing me to sleep whilst you’re away. my arms are lonely and so i envision the lights upon my arms, lighting my skin with the same lights that look upon you; now i am warm through the vision of the light that stares upon us both, painted on my arms.
i role these thoughts around my tongue and sink my teeth into their flesh before their roots have time to leech onto words that would flow from my mouth. such thoughts deserve cremation, or a burial at least - never to breathe the outside air, for their exhalation would surely singe the surrounding ears and minds. i sink my teeth slowly, tortuously into their exposing roots, feeling the burning liquid begin to ooze down my constricting throat which swallows the thoughts whole. so now my stomach fights with the roots which are furrowing into the lining walls, creating knots that remind my mouth to remain closed.
your lost little traveller lingers far away, rocking slightly in her uncomfortable shoes as she bides her time to return to the sanctuary that engulfs the glowing embers inside of her chest; biding her time ‘til she can be engulfed once again in your steady arms.
with our hands held tightly
i feel the lie of your fingertips
bleeding into mine. and although
i know the truth i close my eyes
and pretend I feel the real skin
i’d like pressed against my own.
i can still see the steps
of the venetian train station
looming behind your head,
ready to tear you from my grasp.
but i remember your hand
gently on the side of my neck
and i wonder if you knew that
you held all of me in your palm.
you could have taken
me anywhere around the world,
but still my favourite place to stay
would have been between your lips.
like an avalanche
you crashed down
hard into my mind,
burying all else;
you are the all
which invades the town
of all my thoughts.
except i don’t want you
to melt away, unless
you melt to nourish
all other things inside,
and therefore remain
forever, in everything,
here in my thoughts,
rome has never seemed more beautiful
than now, in the darkness of night as my
arms ache to wrap around your shoulders
so i may bury my head into your chest and
gain comfort from your warmth and gentle
beating heart that would send me to the
sweetest of sleeps, encircled by the smell
of you, and your arms that hold me in return.
in the dark of night
surrounded by past
ghosts, does your mind
cry out in an all consuming
need to black out?
and does your hand
search the sheets
for a sweet, soft flesh
that is not your own?
only to remember
that i am gone.
and you are gone.
does your stomach
churn, making you
the knots instead of
clenching my skin;
the way you used to
leave love marks on
my lower back, marking
me as your own.
do you wake in a
sweat, gasping in air,
choking on memories
that won’t leave your dreams.
or is this just me?
my eyes are tired now, i can hear my nails clacking on my keyboard; rhythmic like the rain. i swear that i could fall asleep and my fingers would continue to move. except that i have nothing to write about because all i want to write about is you and yet i have nothing to say because i pushed you away and i have already written all that i know (and made up a whole lot of things that i do not know). you messaged me the other day and i smiled for hours after you told me that i always pop into your mind. and still i couldn’t tell you that you never leave mine…because as much as i want it to be true, it isn’t. you do leave my mind. i only think about you when i am lonely which is how i know that what i “feel” for you isn’t real and hence why i have severed ties with you because i do not want to string you along. right now i am writing all that pops into my brain because i don’t want the clacking noise to stop and i want to drown out the image of your face that is embedded in my eyelids like ….like nothing else, i have no comparison because i can’t see you so clearly any more, you’re starting to fade and all i have are your inappropriate photographs that make my friends giggle every time they ask to see. but damn, you’re beautiful, even if you do know it more than you should. i almost messaged you just before asking if we could go kayaking because i love it and i know that you do too; i thought it may be fun. but i refrained. you’re welcome. i’m sorry. i’m sorry.
i remember how you stared at me
as you were about to exit my car,
silently asking permission to kiss me;
your lips were so soft and your hand
stayed stagnant on my thigh, as though
if you moved it then you would wake
up and it would all have been a dream.
i remember that you used too much
tongue, but i did not care as i gently
massaged it back into your mouth
and only took how much i wanted.
i always speak of how i kept my hands
in my lap, tightly folded away from you,
away from letting you into my heart -
if i could remember differently, i would
remember my hands gently tracing your
jaw, feeling the stubble which i told you
to please never shave. and i would have
savoured your last touch by encouraging
you to move your stagnant hand over my
guarded heart, feeling it quicken for you.
i close my hand around the words you wrote
so delicately onto the paper, and now so
rough i crumple them until they dissolved into
cursive that resembles a dr.s scrawl.
your words so beautiful hold a charm in which
i am not yet immune and now i bleed them
into my hand so that i may not look upon
them but only feel them in my palm so
i can know the heat they would cause; a burning
heat but not filled with lust: with lies.
i forbade you from circling
my day dreaming head.
so now you cheat,
taking over my
sometimes when i am feeling blue
(if i am wearing my jammies)
i look down at my kitty covered shorts
and smile because i remember
that there are cats in the world,
and as long as cats exist
nothing could really be that bad.
i count the moments in which you cross my mind.
actually i lied.
because you don’t cross my mind.
except for just then.
so i guess the count it at one.
trace calloused palms;
strength seeps through
the warmth of skin.
savour a soft mouth,
and whispered love
heals the burning sores.