Nobody’s wife

Buried in her silent bones.
Runs a river as strong as the Ganges.
Where she sails tiny ships, across the great divide.
For that river leads to a singular heart.
Beating, fleeting on miles in your minutes.
Racing to get away.
Allergic to gold and decay.
Forever, married only to tomorrow.

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Bleed air

Wait for the dust to settle.
A hurt that’s wrapped tightly in a bandage.
Squeezed into numbness.
You asked me here, you want me to stay.
But to remain means deserting me.
Leaving myself alone to drift into space.
You handle my heart so coarsely.
Picking off the dirt that reminds me of my past.
Scars that taught me not to break.
To catch you, half a world away; lost in the fog of tomorrow.
Cancelling time zones as the tock and the tick irritate.
And your kiss, inebriates it all.
This Atmosphere changes everything.
Up here, I cannot see the fall.

Skyward pines

Under the trampled feet of the ghosts of the forest.
We lay in the soil, safe for a century.
Soaking the world in.
We turn away from forever, looking into the eyes of life.
Shooting skyward.
Oceans away from the city of conformity.
An exquisiteness that waivers every day. At the whim of the winds.
We are the pines.
Skeletons in season, breaking beauty as we trail the atmosphere.
Still as the tomb of tomorrow.
We watch the forest shiver and shake to a human beat.
Still with a taste of god in our mouths, breathing in his breath.
Dancing in the darkness as the world sleeps.
These pines.
Waiting once more to be cut down by those seeking our answers.
To get at the truth, down in our roots.

Circles in the oil

The dark sky sways, undulating in that oily void.
Threatening storms, and to swallow me.
We move in motion, dancing across the dangerous divide.
Hoping not to fall. Hoping instead to fly.
Yet the golden dreams crumble to ash, and the sulphur seeps into our bones.
Laid waste across the terrain like cooling magma.
Did you prick your finger upon the wonderment?
Did you breathe in a new world design?
The lungs now get heavy with the tar of life.
Weighing down your soul until you shake into nothingness.
Black. All turns black as the sky shifts and salutes a new day of redundantment.
Our bones turn to chalk, and we write are names on the tombstones of tomorrow.
Erase. Re-write. Turn back the time to let in the light.
We all want our lonely little world.
To swim away from the one that’s drowning.
Let the pin prick breach and gape.
On a raft of a thousand reasons.
Allow the blood to cover a new imagination.
And suck the seed of dreams, to save yourself.

Disembark

“There would never be a place where that would feel like home to me.” She said, her hands trembling as she tried to keep herself under control. He looked away, and at that point she knew his decision had been made. Her heart sealed itself in that moment, covering up in a sheath of self-protection she had learned from when she was young.

“You could be happy there Simone, you have tomorrow to unfold and your dreams to come alive. Don’t place your happiness at my feet”.

“Not when they’re walking over me.” She said.

“Don’t be this way. I told you from the start I was leaving, I made you no promise.” He said, a little more determined now after her petulant remark. He didn’t want the hurt to be there, he didn’t want it to show. The pain he was causing, he was happy to ignore if he couldn’t see it; cover it up and sweep it away like the good intentions he’d had. Those intentions were always to live in the moment and not dwell on the future too much. But Simone needed that security of tomorrow. She needed to know he would be there, not just when she needed him, but even when she didn’t. A static presence in her life, like a lock on her door to keep her safe.

“I’m sorry, if that means anything to you.” He said, and her eyes bore into him. Scanning his conscience like a metal detector, sniffing out a lie.

“I think you believe that.” she said, and her tears began to drip out of her eyes, lifting off in the zero gravity. Floating out into the planet’s green atmosphere. She was hoping this day would never really come, but when it did, he would change his mind. He would see the love they had, and the love she had for him and stay. Push away all the pullings of the other life and reasonings of leaving and just stay. Be with her and let them carve a life out together. A part of her knew he never would, but she had wished and prayed and begged for it be different. She had read in a book once that she could change her fate. What she didn’t realise was that sometimes you got what you needed, not what you wanted.

As he went to kiss her, she pulled away. The moment hung like Christmas decorations in January, gaudy and out of place in the grey. He turned, but all she could see was the blurry colours of him departing as the tears bubbled in her eyes and she wept at her loss. A pain that quickly stabbed and settled within her as his rocket left forever.

Dusk of the innocent

They didn’t see it coming.
Always bouncing on to something else.
Ignoring the ghosts in their eyes, or the oncoming headlights.
Those April days of innocence.
Flying over schools and mountain tops.
Elasticated minds skimming the Tokyo suburbs.
Never finding time to hear what love sounded like.
Letting it all fall away like a crumbling cliff, on the sea of something.
Were you ever sure what you fought for?
Always in the eye of the storm of your halcyon hurricane.
When April faded to December, what do you cling to now?
Freeze dried promises that never seem to thaw.
Mislabelled and mumbling that nothing seems clear.
Only the icy ground beneath, forcing you in that straight line.
Towards you losing yourself.
And lowering into soil.
Could you ever tell who liked you? Did you ever really care?
Needling the hay to make way for a forgotten tomorrow.
Singing into the dusk of the innocents.

Sea salt on my skin

Not looking for anything to interrupt this morning.
Yet came it did.
Hurried through these bones like a freight train.
Cutting me deep.
Such hurt on the telephone.
Transistor tears and unravelling years.
Wiping away tomorrow.
Those words.
Not letting me.
Melted down like mediocrity.
One wish was to take me to higher ground.
To say goodbye.
As the waves lapped at my feet.

Wash over me

The thread from my bones was caught and tugged.
Stuck on that rootless tree.
That dying ember.
Give me a place where it’s quiet in my head.
To rest and melt away.
This lake-shore I wander upon, littered with Prozac pebbles.
Stubs my heart and calls me to the water’s edge.
Reflected in the glassy eye of tomorrow.
Is nothing of what I cherish today.
As birds fly above, they swoop in and steal my thoughts.
There is no protector of my mind.
Leaving me numb and silent.
Dancing once more in the darkness.
To a rhythm only I can hear.

Corrosive

Great opportunity.
Swim to me like you’re in an aquarium.
Smell this sweet delirium.
Candy tongued and sarcastic.
This mountain flower piackable state.
Didn’t you notice?
My store front vulnerability.
Flashing neon signs: Kiss me.
Corrosively dipped and iron willed.
All in disguise.
Like cyanide sweet nothings on your pillow; talk,
and swallow me down.
Wash away those ugly thoughts and humiliation.
Rain. Rain. Rain. (Back again?)
This smells like tomorrow.

Crushed chalk to diamond dust

They did not see, our crucifixion wasn’t televised.
The day you broke down, and held my hand.
Swimming in chalk, dusting it off our clothes.
Feeling so low and desperate.
The soft surrender of hopelessness.
But we did not die, we did not fade into white.
A burst of control and all the things they’ll never know.
Our resurrection, in colour and flesh and bone.
Just a matter of time now until they paint our picture.
Hang it on the wall where the wolves devour other hearts.
Stronger, from here on out.

Wash

Stripping back the past as you wallow in the dirt.
Forcing me to join you, dripping in the hurt.
Pressing my face right up to the window of the mess.
As I please, and beg and prostrate that I’m trying to do my best.
You can’t undo it. And yet I knew it. You say that we blew. Here we go.
Can we focus on tomorrow, the beautiful, or the happy? Things that work better when we flow?

Imaginary conversations with myself

Having to leave to find my way. Stumbling over every action.
Putting up the walls to save me and which leave me shaking.
All this talk of passion, the overrated use of dialogue.
Speak to me in movement, show me your change.
I push and pull, fumbling over emotions.
Getting lost in exhausting labour, tolling emotional behaviour.
Ring the bells, and watch me fall.
Have you seen me, can you hear? My voice well-travelled.
It’s not my fault, if only you could see yourself. Licking gasoline.
So I travel at night, into praxis, into tomorrow.
Lost in confusion, yet you tell me it doesn’t matter.
You say you want me. You want my here. The same air you’re breathing.
The weather of our emotions is lifting and I still try to twist and turn things around.
Holding my breath.
Touching me deep.
Such strange ventilation. Words, words, words.

Transitory

Waking up from one of those stormy dreams.
Dusting off the snow, wringing out the rain. Blinking through and seeing the hereafter.
How does the truth feel? How does my love resonate?
Placing one foot in front of the other, as I tiptoe out of the past.
Blue skies all the way, though I still don’t know which direction to head.
Draining off the artificial sweeteners.
The ones that kept me synthesized, crying out for attention.
I’ll make my way into tomorrow, u the clouds aside; laughing at the rain.
All transitory self-emotion.
Coating myself in war paint.
A Real version of me.
Falling away, soaking up the sun.

04:45 Tomorrow

Though the dawn sings out a new chorus, I cling to the night.
It is in the dark we dwell now, secure in our insecurities.
A post-blue anesthesia.
Slipping down from the dopamine shell.
The tiniest crack, the smallest splinter.
Down to the floor where we freeze like winter.
The swan song of our lifetime, yet only 26.
Clickety click.
I dug my own grave with you last night. You did the same, yet watched me do the heavy lifting.
The look away and the tiniest frown, makes me feel incapacitated.
Resting on a gravestone, stroking a soul.
Licking words that you toss my way, crunching on the crumble of forgiveness.
We build the tomb, and plant the seed.
Blacked eyed beans and coffee kernels, salty tears that stain.
Who is she anyway to you?
I go home as the night slips into dawn, erasing the loneliness and feelings of terror.
Come seek me where I dwell, scrap off the shells and dying roots.
Tell me you love me, and mean it. Please believe it.
Sinking into tomorrow, today.

Pouring

I don’t need time, I never did.
It washes over me on repeat.
Pushing me to the floor, collapsing into now.
It sends up thoughts of you, like motes in the air.
Twinkling like stars.
Like bubbles they explode, as I’m just chasing rainbows.
These thoughts evaporate in the rain, in the deluge of tomorrow; and the monsoon of your distaste.