with love,

I’m hoping

for your sake and mine

that this is just a phase.

I love you.

These three words I mean

in every way that they make sense.

For the sake of this love

I will clean up.

You won’t have to know,

You won’t be expected to.

You are my reason

to stay alive;

And I will never be yours.

For your sake.

And my heart’s.

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Letters to my Soul

Do not entertain disrespect

Or blatant disregard.

These are never one-offs.

There’s a certain type of peace

That you need in your heart

To let yourself survive,

That these two strip away.

An Exercise in Futility

Dear Person,

It’s uncomfortable
Being on guard.
Worrying about things
You say and do

Being judged.
Not misjudged.

A selfish, shamelessly self-centred organism.

But, I’m comfortable enough
To tell you this.
I’ve been thinking a lot
Of the pointlessness

Of any emotion
That isn’t self-serving.
So, what is this big fuss
About love?

The existence of which is in itself
Contentious

I think.

But what do I know?

The stark futility of expressing
To people
How you feel,
When they clearly don’t need it –

Evolved,
Self-sufficient bastards.

So why tell you that you’ve been on my mind?
Memories of you
Make me feel empty.

I do not love you
Unconditionally;

I do not want
To possess you;

I do not dream
Of touching you;

I am not enamoured.

In truth, I don’t even really like you.

But.

You are real.
You were here,
I “felt” alive.

Like I was more
Than just an organism.
Like my meaningless existence
Was completely acceptable.

Like

I wasn’t alone.

I miss you.

Sincerely.

Carousel

Have we met before?

Let’s say we haven’t.
Let’s do a little dance,
As you help me sell to you
Parts of myself that I’d like you to see.

Tell me I’m beautiful,
Say those words.
Make me want you
Despite myself.

Pull me close
And I’ll try to leave.
But your grip is firm,
My fingers in your palm.

I’ll twirl right back
Into your arms.
Sharing bodies and souls,
Never missing a beat.

Tell me my demons entice you;
That you’re under my spell.
Tell me you couldn’t leave
Even if you wanted to.

Tell me I’m special –
My breath intoxicating.

So special that I’m different –
My words, stimulating.

So different that I’m doomed.
To be alone.

Then don’t look back
When you walk out the door,
Shaking with emotion
You never expected.

Rage. Hate. Pain. Love?

Promise yourself
You’ll never come back.
I’ll promise myself
I won’t take you back.

I’ll spend my days
Shattering innocent objects;
Shouting as loud as I can
To drown out the voices.

Incredibly loud.
Excruciatingly unkind.
Told you so!
Told you so.

I’ll make do,
I’ll live with this shame.

So here I am.
Healing.
The past behind me;
When you come by,

Smiling eyes asking,

Have we met before?

Stay Alive

Hold on, dear heart.

This too shall pass.

Time’s a great healer.

This too shall pass.

 

You might stay broken,

But you shall breathe,

Wake up, hunt and kill.

Survival is key.

 

They are not you.

You are not theirs;

No one belongs

To anyone or anything.

 

Accept what is –

You’re on your own

Dear heart, hold on.

This too shall pass.

 

You have to walk

A little longer.

Your mask must stay;

The show isn’t over.

 

Take control dear heart,

You know what you want.

You have no savior,

But yourself, dear heart.

 

You’ve given away pieces

Of yourself, dear heart

To those who didn’t want it

Or know what it was.

 

You’ve done this yourself

And you’ll do it again.

‘Coz life isn’t poetry

It’s a long long march.

 

Stay in line,

Find the rhythm.

Slap on a smile

‘Til the curtains are drawn.

 

Strength, dear heart

Is accepting the truth.

That we are in the end

Only virus with shoeson.*

 

Fin.

Is it possible to reach a place
Where learning cannot be?
Do old ways makes grooves
So deep and wound
That no compound could ever fill?

Is it possible, the spell has been broken
By a wee kink that went unchecked?
That any chance of fitting in
Was lost
On its way to consummation?

Is it possible there is no truth?
That there is no need to search?
That we have all
Been condemned by evolution;
Against its very design?

 

spring cleaning

Nostalgia – tricky little wench!
You never walk alone
For fear of being discovered
As the shallow broad you are.

Always a tiny step behind
Your click-bait for the day.

Things I love

For their sake alone,
You trick me into believing
It’s just for you.
Your delightful charm!

Those sounds, those smells,
Those sights and that taste.
Rain and song, chocolate and perfume…
Letters and photographs.

Love and hate.

Mirages they are;
Memories real

And imagined.

But I’ve weaned myself off of you.
I see you for who you are;

An enabler to my dependencies.
Your lies are no match
For these glasses I wear,
Rose tints washed off.

Innocence and I
Have said our goodbyes.

Your scent’s no longer comforting,
Your voice, cantankerous!
Your laugh empty…

And insecure.

I’ve grown increasingly sure
That I don’t care for what was.
You don’t fool me anymore,

I am free.

To make my own choices.
To have new beginnings.
To trust my own instinct.

To live.

“The world forgetting, by the world forgot”.

Take your baggage
And shut the door on your way out.

the park swing

 

Fists holding surely
That metal chain;
The smell of life
Emanating from within.

Feet firmly anchored
In the sand by the balls.
Knees buckled;
On the edge of your seat.

Ready for take-off!
Fall slightly backward
As your toes look skyward,
Aiming higher than you dare.

Catch a flash of sun
Like a glint of magic,
Before you fall back down
For an anxious second.

Proactive feet
Propel you again.
Dreamward. Forward.
Skyward once more.

The high is addictive.

The rest of your body
Now join forces
To attain by all means
Its communal goal.

“Aim for the sky
and land on the roof”.

Higher and higher,
Dodging the rooftops.
Higher and higher,
Till there’s nothing but white.

A blinding and piercing
Yet calming bright light.

The higher you fly
The greedier you get,
And as it’s commonly known,
The harder you’ll fall.

Still you push harder,
Having now tasted freedom.
Your needs and wants
Now completely indistinguishable.

Chasing a high
That’s chased by a low
Lower than any
You’ve ever known.

Up then down.
Inhale. Exhale.
Your chest full and then emptied
Of life and hope.

The sun has set.
Your spirit is weary.
You slowly touch down
In the sand where you started.

On the ground where you belong.

Aim for nothing
And stay where you are.

Your soul bereft
Of a will to live.

Fists fall slack
Off that metal chain;
The smell of death
Emanating from within.

dear departed

Things end.
That’s just how it is.

Holding on.
Weak arms as always.
Gravity mocking
The body’s betrayal,
Taking first
The trickle of red
Involuntarily given
Of fingers white.

The heart escapes
Beneath the gut.
Vacating the house
Where he once lived.

Vacant for Demolition.
The balance is off.

Hope steadily dimming.
Resolve depleted.

Think not. Feel not.
Let go now.
It’s just an end.
Life does go on.

Shameful arms
Surrender feebly.
The descent begins.
No ground below.
Limbs flailing
To scrambled instructions
In this unending free fall.

But
Things end.
That’s just how it is.

This ends.