i have loved books, and films,
and flowers, photographs, destinations,
and feelings, pets, dreams, and friends -
yet i am still to love anything
close to the way in which i love you.
(2:53pm)Some things are perfect,
like scripted screenplays
and the timing with which
the hero rides in on a
timely tamed white stallion,
but I have found beauty
more in imperfections, the
unpredictable sunsets spilling
over mountain tops just before
you reach the summit, too
early for your plans but
much too mesmerizing
to flip the channel.
didn’t the summer wind
tell you that i was waiting
with the daisies, in their
field so overflowing with
love, and lust, and all
things essential to blossoming?
…i guess the bitter winter’s
rain held you captive,
breathing her chilling
melancholy into your bones.
fixed photographs hang upon the wall,
long since have i wished they held you captive.
faint shadows land upon the dimming frame,
fading sun illuminating the memory of your face.
slowly a smile dances across my mouth:
finally i breathe, as i find i can enjoy you,
without missing you.
(9:25am)We’re all masochists,
drawn in by those who
resolve to push us out.
I’m only nostalgic for
the ones who’ve left me
scarred, perfect sliced
reminders of their once
so prominent presence
on my open, bleeding heart.
with my hair dyed copper,
like the reeds during summer,
my uncle called me blood-nut
as my laugh followed me to
the waters edge, where i danced
on the shore as the blistering
sand kissed the murky waves
who came to lap up against our feet.
voices moulded together the memories
in which i hold dearest to my heart;
a time when the only care i had
was whether the boys in the cabin next
door would notice me or my cousin first -
yet in the end it would matter not
as my cousin and i frolicked in happiness
that felt would last a lifetime.
beneath moonlight that illuminated
the beauty of the lake, whispered
secrets flowed from ear to ear
and i knew that in the end,
family was all that counts.
in the dimly lit room
beneath the cover of night,
i held you closer than i held my wits.
i let you crawl beneath my skin,
memorising your lips like i
should have been memorising my ideals -
ideals that would have saved me
from loosing you; much like i lost myself.
with forest eyes
and a quite river
tongue, it tortures
me so, every time
i must leave the
quiet serenity, painted
inside my mind.
one final breath,
to breathe the life
back into billions
of sinning souls.
arms stretched wide,
you love greater
than comprehensible,
if we had one million lives.
they say you have
the world on a string.
like a puppeteer they
fall from your finger tips;
a simple extension of your
finger may leave me breathless,
contorting here alone on my bathroom floor.
you became the puppet master, with your
smile so glamorous upon your chiselled
face, and your hands so rough yet
soft when they stroke my ribcage
through the fibres in the string.
you lifted my hand onto
my heart, but left…
you cut the strings,
and now i am but a limp
puppet - alone again
here on my bathroom floor.
i made you everything
and yet nothing,
all at once.
i gave you responsibilities
and fed you,
yet gave you nothing of myself.
i put myself in the air between,
so i could see it all,
but you could see none.
when the time came
and you left,
roots i never knew about
ripped from my chest;
gaping holes left scars
greater than i ever let you see.
time stands still
for but a moment
as my pocket watch
stops its ticking.
a minute second
and i see time freeze;
for a moment
i am allowed to be infinite.
(10:32am)My heart skipped over butterflies
and moved straight to falling stars;
cosmic conglomerations, dusting
the atmosphere in waves of bliss.Heart monitors jumped and twirled,
with needles pointed skywards,
as sparks ignited the darkened night
(for all the stars filled up my heart).A woven net was placed, as stars fell
to my chest, caught with hope
and captured with subtle touches
from lips to cheek and back again.