debris of the unsaid

row-boat-painting-surrealism-woman-dreaming-row-boat-in-hair-beautiful-painting-art-row-boat-in-storm-paintingOnce

the storm

predicted and prepared for

still

blew away the thatch of your house

sent water pouring like words with lament

and whilst

i was sickening

i thought I heard you row

across the expanse of us

holding your roof as umbrella

your feet bare and needy

opened my cabinet of questions

gave you a draft of why?

to which you descended beneath brackish waters

places submerged in lost question

claiming to surface

a moment where you spun in orange pekoe light

sitting stroking Gato before he

tested his claws on a tree the buyers tore down years hence

i climbed that tree in my high heels

you took a photo aping for the camera

and one fixing your sink in mini skirt

that’s my girl you said

we bathed because then you had a bath and I had heated arms to wrap you whole

the ocean of the past drawing in and receding

with it, debris of unsaid and unchained

time behind and unrecoverable

Once

i told you I was sick and couldn’t swim

you held me above waves with your will

till you decided I weighed too heavy

on the stitch of your skin to keep

we both

and neither of us

strangers and familiar

deciding and without decision

lost that year to the storm

as it set its pulse on our sundial and drank all hope in its spiraling eye

(there are many forms of love, you chose certainty over depth)

and once

i took a raft made of need and dragged the silty water

searching for what was lost

of us

who we were and were not

for you told fate you never knew me after all

an error of thinking … no more

then the storm left and all we knew was flat and broken

even trees we climbed were crushed like sad-faced dolls

as if an avalanche had glossed over the details

leaving behind a shiny surface and no more beneath

but dull reflection

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29 thoughts on “debris of the unsaid

  1. I see, I think, why that one line is crossed out, but still, that choosing certainty over depth does leave a debris field littered with what was not said, and all else. Stunning!

  2. Your power to evoke the unsaid pain with your words of such a relationship blows my mind. I relate to this one so much especially the lines “lost that year to the storm…. and drank all hope in its spiralling eye”… magnificent.

  3. You brighten my soul. I find your posts deeply inspirational – I love your poetry but I really like your musings (good word) on things, because you think a lot like I do in terms of how people act, what the consequences of that are, etc, and you are an empath. I’m not an empath but i appreciate empaths very much and I appreciate your good heart in this strange world

  4. That means a lot to me as I am a big admirer of your poetry and ability to express things far more subtly that I can. It is a very strange world. I was just thinking that today as I had to be out early to meet the charity truck that was collecting my Mum’s possessions. I see a great split in us at times between spirit and matter. I find it hard to articulate but I know you get it and see it too. I value so much our connection and knowing you at least a little through the outpourings of your mind heart and soul on here. Love to you Candice. ❤

  5. I do know what you mean. Spirit and matter – the split. I like how you described that. It is very hard to describe isn’t it? You’re not on Facebook are you? (Fakebook) I am but only to push the books otherwise I wouldn’t be but if you were maybe we could talk via their chat thingie xo

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