There you are

15094981_1170125696413806_5262358430950260450_n

about one hundred years ago

or three years

or just yesterday

I lay in your bed

smelling the indent and the roll

of your dream life when I am not

trying to look through your eyes

into your soul

About one hundred years ago

or three years

or just yesterday

I stood over your bed

stripping the sheets

smelling where you lived and breathed

all those nights and days

we should have been making memories

now folded away

About one hundred years ago

or three years

or just yesterday

I smoothed the mattress clear

of the weight you inhabited and

little traces curled here and there

persisting to remind me

of the way the moon lit

your sleeping face

now you will always have your eyes closed

maybe now you can see

the shapes of angels

watching over you until

it is my turn and I come to find

if you have been waiting all this time

a year, a month, a day

one hour is too long

without looking into your eyes

to see what I love reflecting back

like dark diamonds capturing stars

will wink out

and there you are

The bottle

the-birds-cage-avihai-cohenFar away

or near

a roar

is heard

and not

answered

for after a while

what can you say?

it is the way of pain

to rage in quiet ire

with tongue numb of speech

most do not hear

most walk on

thinking of themselves

and the roar

tries to find

the sea

within

the bottle

Coupe

thAu moment de démêler mes cheveux

the day you cut yourself

you have to hurt

lose

some trace of past

much beloved

forming solace

the retreat within

only then, not even then

take one shuffled step forward

you are not yourself anymore

you are the one you became

when they ate your heart

licked the plate clean

no need to wash

 

it’s not true

you stay the same afterward

you do not

you are extinguished

half reborn

each time or only once

harder

a shell of former self

patting scars down

like fur

refusing to smooth

 

when I laid my head

on your lap

my hair spilled across your knees

down to the floor

just as my tears now

will fill me with the strength

to cut out the part of me

holding you

it is nearly all of my sum

 

so necessarily

I will start as nothing

build slowly into an approximation

something will be sacrificed

something will be lost

never to return

it is the part of me that could trust

it is the rope of my devourment

 

I will be shorn

of the muscles of my heart

for you took everything

leaving only

a pair of scissors

glinting on tabletop

if I stretch out

I can reach

their

steel

Lovers for everything

evelyn_mchale-suicide-1050ft-jump

I’m so cold

my fingers are chaffed to crepe

and I think of you

curling my bunions and split ends into smiles

you who thought my high forehead, regal and grand

you who turned my flaws into delights

misting unflattering mirrors to better light

I think of you and how

I felt when you regarded me

with the bright eyes of love

that dimmed and winked out

gradually until even the blind could see

you no longer held me in your esteem

that’s when I told myself

don’t depend upon the love of others

to hold you to the light

do not need the touch of someone who desires you

to be all right

but who am I kidding?

even the flower

the feral cat and mocking bird

the sky, the earth and all between

even the damn puddles and muddy stream

needs someone to say to them

you look lovely still

you make my heart skip a beat

even if it is a bush or bramble hedge

maybe out there in the wild there are

lovers for everything

whilst I

try to find in not being loved

the companionship of silence

but it is not

no it is not

good enough

for quiet endurance does not have

your caring arms

holding me from the world

turning me from lead to precious metal

nor the ardor of your eyes

reminding me to shine

when I think I cannot

no

that hope is lost

the day you turned your head

no longer delighted by my flaws

I am just ordinary now

and a bunion is a bunion

sticking out of my shoe

at rude angle

as sorry as any malformed bone could be

to lose such fantasy

Not changed

freja-beha-erichsen-vogue-uk-january-2014-2Tell me

if time erodes pain

why then

does time

build

calcification

and stalagmites

and stalactites

why does time

raise from their graves

the new land drowned and reborn

why does time

etch hurt so deeply in frown

why does memory

deepen like a well sourced burn

why do my empty arms

catch in motion and fall

lost by my side

why if time erases me

in your heart and your mind

do I stand here

years from now

in similar light

with a chest full of hurt

not altered

not changed

Snow storm

thGrief

you can inhabit me

when all else is bare

the wind clearing space

I didn’t know was there

for now I do wish

never to remember why

the sting is relentless

we keep our mouths unmoving and quiet

nobody

not even God

would know the hurt that inhabits us

it is the savage essence of

being human

I long to leave

behind in soft

foot fell

leading into

the whirling

snow storm