Ramblings

We dont exist anymore,

I dont miss what we were,

I never think of him wishingly,

But I wonder how hes doing,

But not enough to find out,

It feels heartless not to check,

I dont think theres a version of me where I do,

I dont miss him,

But I miss the me that was with him,

I miss meeting someone's eyes across the room,

Laughing, dancing, smiling, drinking,

Its not his eyes Id look for anymore,

I wouldn't even think of him,

But Id think of me

And Id think of sunshine and collapsed piles on the floor,

Too many bodie,

Overlapping casually,

Because they exist as my comfort zone,

I miss all the fun I had with him,

I miss the parties and the late nights,

The sunrises and night time walks,

The warm sunshine and dancing in the rain,

We could never exist

Not anymore,

Not ever again,

We could probably be civil,

Maybe,

He is still so important to me,

Id cry for weeks if something happened to him,

Id probably never be told,

I think thats what hurts,

Knowing I cant help anymore,

Knowing that hes almost definitely still struggling,

Knowing so closely how someones brain works,

Not knowing where they live anymore,

If they live anymore,

To know exactly why theyre struggling and not being the person who can help,

Knowing exactly what they need and knowing you cant give that,

To know and to care forever,

But never to talk again,

To exist so separately ill never get to know if he heals,

To grow apart so that the boy I knew no longer exists,

To care for something thats gone,

Theres no scenario that doesnt end like this,

A doomed mess,

And we both knew,

But somehow convinced ourselves the fall was worth the landing,

Theres no version where we end us as friends after

There was no other way it was going to end,

The people who made us us are gone,

But I wonder what it would have been like to grow together not tumble vaguely apart,

That never could have been him,

I really hope its them

I think Ive forgiven him,

But forgiving him doesn't mean I ever wanna see him again,

My forgiveness does not grant him closeless,

Or trust,

Ive forgiven him but we will never recover from it,

He can never have his spot back in my life,

Forgiveness does not mean we pretend like it never happened,

Forgiveness doesnt mean he gets to try again,

Its not that im holding a grudge,

But some things are just not possible,

And I dont want to waste my time trying

You will sell your grandmas necklace,

To buy your food,

To pay your rent,

To buy the drinks and the drugs,

That make it bareable,

You will stare up at the dark sky,

And wonder if you are truly alone,

But you will plant your seeds,

And you will wait for them to grow

But life cannot florish on the cold slate ,

Just as you cannot choked up and buried,

By those overgrown and pricking your skin with every step,

Time will pass and your farm will flourish,

It wont be quick,

I doubt it will be painless,

But you will fly higher than you ever thought possible,

You will soar with only the bright white light above you,

They cant reach you here,

Will never drill into your head again,

You will forge your life by hand,

Close the curtains you made by scratch,

Shutting out their world ,

You will turn and look at unconcerned eyes,

Who have never heard the prayers you whisper under your breath,

The preachings you scream at night,

Because you rebuilt every part of you,

Coded in new habits and friends,

Who've only ever heard a past tense story,

Who see you drink sprite on a friday night,

Who've never seen you try and outrun it all,

Who've never seen you run,

Who think you walk for fun,

Who've never seen cold hot dog buns under a park bench,

Who hand you chocolate truffles while they wish you happy birthday,

You've stopped running,

Now you sit down and smile

If only I can lie long enough to keep him safe,

I would tell him any lie to stop those tears,

I would make them truths if only I could,

Promises,

Promises,

Promises,

What difference does it matter the length?

When he will never let me not promise?

What difference does it matter when I have already entered a contract I cannot leave?

To leave them would hurt more than any threat of torture,

What difference does time make?

When I am handing over my last hope if only to ease the pain on their faces,

Of what can time matter ,

When the time will never be right,

To what can a secondary promise matter when I have not heart to break the first,

Nor the strength to follow it,

The one sided contract to which I am bound,

And know not how to ask to freedom,

For what is it worth when they will not promise half of the same except to comfort them,

So let them believe the lies I tell,

And I will follow with no faith in my heart ,

Except the slim glimmer ,

That no matter my convictions it will end the truth,

What difference does months matter when every word is a chain dragging me down,

A promise with the assurance of further promises forever down the line,

But who could look in his face and hold in their arms and tell him no?

To scream and yell that such promises cannot be meant and shouldn't be made,

All those months begging him not to ask,

But I tell anyway,

If you will not leave at the truth I will lie as you stay,

If this is the promise you will believe,

Then this is the lie I will tell,

And the endless loop begins anew,

Repeating it out loud,

To convince you, to convince me,

But both our doubts remain,

There are promises I should not make,

And promises I will not keep,

Promises I do not mean,

And I make them all the same,

Because to what end does fire matter when added to a burning inferno,

To comfort them at any price of guilt,

If only on the relief that they will grow disinterested when the dawn turns,

Their fading interest,

A promise long forgotten is a promise not broken,

If to watch them leave must burn let it burn with the bitterness of freedom,

When the dawn rises and I am gone let them not look round nor stir but simply carry on,

In ignorance, in bliss,

But for now let them rest safe in the knowledge of my lies,

That for all they may be are bound too tightly around me to ever let me walk away,

The one sided contract,

That I cannot yet leave,

Until the unsigned ends slips slowly,

Off the edge of their desk,

And I am released,

He was always so much better at pulling on the string,

Pulling it constantly so tight,

His untied end slips past his eyes unnoticed,

For I will be close until he lets go,

With will nor courage to pull me back,

And I will walk away at last for lack of enegry to place it back into his hands,

Or lack of trust in hands that lose grip so easily in ever having tried,

And strings binding me will float freely as I fall

Shoelace wrapped tightly ,

Looping around wrist and thumb,

Nails trimmed painfully short,

Fading freckles on sun burnt skin,

Theses are not the hands of a writer,

Not the hands of a scientist ,

Not the hands of the athlete,

The muscician,

No these are the hands of the broken,

The hopeless, the given up and lost,

These are the hands that hold the knife,

And tie the noose,

These are the hands that wont be held,

And wouldn't want to,

These are the hands that destroy themselves,

Without reason or sense,

These are the hands that will drop and break all that is dear or needed,

These are the hands that will write and sew,

And mend that which isnt broken,

And cannot be fixed,

These are the hands that long to bake,

That cook every night,

These are the hands that shake,

That hold the cigarette, the bottle, the lighter,

These are the hands that will end it all,

These are the hands that write the cards, the notes, the forms,

These are the hands of the poet,

Admitting it was time to move on was hard,

But having them wrenched from you,

Made me grateful for the opportunity to say goodbye and make peace with my exit,

But then question remains,

Where do I belong now,

Its all good accepting and mourning the loss,

But how do I find another,

Each time I age out Ifind another,

But I wonder what waits for me when I finally stop being young,

What happens when theres no more communities,

Where do I go,

They talk of clinging on and reluctancy to leave,

One year more they say,

But the issue still remains,

Where do I go after,

What do I do now I left,

When the communities I love no longer exist,

When I miss with all my heart places that arent for me anymore,

Cos what is love worth without belonging,

A direction to turn to,

And avenue to funnel down,

Where does that love go now,

Now theres nothing more to love,

Except ever fading memories,

Why doesnt the memories fade with it,

Distant pain long forgotten,

Replaced with a need to be there,

To do it again,

To play it on repeat ,

To treasure every second,

Except I can't,

And i wouldn't enjoy it,

I wouldnt belong,

Im a different person now,

So all I can do is cling to the memories

As I cry and shake,

There is notbing left to love,

Only an absence,

A void that is somehow crushing,

Suffocating,

More pain than all the love I ever felt,

How is it fair to have something,

Then mourn it forever,

I have so many years left to mourn,

But no more to treasure,

How can Ibmiss something more than Inever loved it,

How can I mourn something Im not sure I ever had,

I can never be that person again,

I can never be that little kid,

And awkwardly stand in the corner observing,

I want to hug them,

I want to scream at them,

These are the people you love,

Go and cherish them,

Talk to them for fucks sake,

So im not left with nothing to mourn,

I want to break down crying on them,

And hold them tight,

Cos all i really have left is myself,

And some days thats not enough,

But old me would just stare uncomfortable,

Not old enough to feel this pain,

I know they wouldnt comfort me,

Wont share the need to cling on,

While theres still something there to catch,

With sharp nails,

Grasping grabbing,

But only catching air,

What i wouldn't do to be there again ,

And cry in the corner,

I know it will only make the pain worse,

But the pain is all i have left,

Digging it up again and again,

Just to have something to mourn,

Because having nothing is so much worse,

I need the pain because then in some small way,

I still have a slither to cling to,

Unable to let go,

Unwilling to see it vanish,

It may be a long dead corpse but at least it is

It takes a thousand times as long to write anything,

As it does for you to read,

You skim read it in a minute,

Spend quarter of an hour treasuring every word,

That I poured my soul in,

Spent days reading and rereading,

To get the tone just right,

And that line to scan,

And to sort the rhyme scheme out,

Glossed over in a moment

You treasure it deeply,

But you will never appreciate it enough,

I left part of myself into it,

And now I have to watch you judge me,

You cant comprehend how much my heart is woven into every word,

Looped around each comma,

They say mistakes is how your soul escapes,

But i need it to be perfect,

A slight wrong choice

A disjointed rhythm,

Catches in your mouth,

For a second,

Overshadowing all the careful rhymes,

The alliteration standing out,

Sore on the skyline,

But I need it to blend,

Seamlessly,

Into the fabric of my words,

Soft as silk,

Flowing out,

Clear glassy water,

So you can see the pebbles below,

Thick as tweed,

Rough as the weather,

Warm thick protecting ,

A blanket around you,

But all it does is scratch,

Spelling mistakes,

Weaving holes in the pattern,

Unravelling it slowly but surely,

Rereading rereading,

My finger going over and over the ridge,

Sanding it down,

Except it catches everytime,

A good poem,

Makes you see,

A mirror reflecting your stomach back at you,

A telescope,

Helping you peer into another world,

Galaxies away,

A microscope,

Showing you the world at your feet,

A poem is just a lens to see the world through,

Tinted with the authors colours,

But mine are pitch black

Cloudy,

And scratched

The sun shines through the tent,

My world shifts from a dark green to ,

glowing golden,

I lie and wait,

Blissful in the knowledge,

I dont have to get up yet,

Theres no rush,

Warmth seeps through the sky,

The cold earth beneath me,

The air not yet sweltering in this prison,

Rather the heat stirs my bones,

The dull ache slowly fading with it,

Replacing it with energy,

So I stick my head out and grab my book,

I dont open it yet,

Choosing instead to stare at the other tents,

Peaceful resting in the morning glow,

Hours later they will buzz with activity,

But for now my friends sleep off the late night,

The deckchairs still out from watching the meteor shower,

I should get them in,

But theres still no rush,

Satisfied that no one has disappeared since I slept,

I open my book and breathe in the calm,

I read a few pages lazily,

My brain still drowsy,

I'll read the rest with coffee,

Made in the tiny bright yellow pot,

Staring at the view,

As the others take their turn cooking breakfast,

And then the fun will begin,

Seems like good weather for a swim

She puts the envelope on the pile,

And I leave,

Cos what else is there to do,

I've tried and I've tried,

But nothing can shake her,

She wont get out of bed,

Let alone leave her room,

I don't tell her how much dad had to plead and beg,

I wont tell her how he broke down in tears on the way home,

I wont tell her that mum prays for her every meal time,

I wont tell how they bought her favourite foods,

I wont tell her how her friends glance up the stairs like shes already dead,

I don't tell her she might as well be,

I can't tell her what she needs,

She just sleeps now,

I've never seem something so peaceful look so,

Pained,

So I just leave the letter next to the plates,

And I take down the oldest meal,

Messed with and poked,

Churned over and over into a mush,

The other plates are untouched,

I would never believe that I could miss something with the colour of sick,

I say something kind,

I say something about my day,

I say something,

I dont know anymore,

I'm just saying words,

I'm not sure why I expect her to trust them,

When I dont even believe them myself,

I say something,

Or at least that's what I hope I did,

I need to believe I did,

I need to open that envelope,

How can I give her news that could break her heart,

Or whatever else isnt broken by now,

The doctors say it needs time,

Like fractured bones,

The pieces of her soul just need to knit together again,

It takes time they say,

So everyday I come up to here,

This room so detached from home now,

Like her mind from us,

And I say my words,

And shuffle the plates,

Pretending I'm making a stitch,

Quietly hoping it sticks,

Theres a small scarf in my mind now,

I wonder how long it needs to be,

But as I look in her eyes,

It unravels before mine,

Still and unnaturally shiny,

It looks like the ones from the morgue,

Something my parents would kill me for saying,

Shes not dead they say,

And I wonder when the last they came up here was,

Or are they too scared to fracture the mirage of her,

Her desk untouched,

Carefully dusted,

Like I might blink and she'll be there again

Headphones carefully resting on the chair,

Like she just put them there,

Like shes coming back,

Like someone lives here,

Sterile,

Hidden,

By carefully mismatched colours,

Objects slightly wonky,

Meticulously designed to look alive,

But theres something no planning can reproduce,

Life,

The air here is colder,

Deader than anywhere,

Its like looking at a photo someone else made,

An alien copy,

Everything is were it's meant to be,

Except her,

So it means nothing,

It's a dollhouse in the back of a cupboard,

It's a set for the next horror film,

The uncanny carpet on the floor,

The start of the movie,

Just waiting for the inevitable end scene,

Blood stains streaming down the window,

The light slightly knocked over,

The books and pens eerily unchanged

Untucked shirt,

And messy hair,

It's just so endearing,

The smile as they sit on the swings,

Their warm skin when I go up to push them,

As they laugh out,

And I'd trade all the sunny days to cause that smile again,

That oh so sweet smile,

As fragile as the weather,

They ask me again if I'm sure I dont mind,

Dont I want a go,

How can I explain their joy is mine,

That it's not work if it makes them happy,

The last day of summer fades away,

We didn't plan this,

Yet we sit and talk for hours,

About nothing,

People come over to talk to us ,

You tell them to fuck off,

We'd been hanging out all day,

We still find things to say,

Chatter fades into comfortable silence,

Laughing and falling over,

Running but never away,

Falling out of trees,

And into each other,

Late sunsets give an excuse,

Not to leave just yet,

I watch as they try and fail to cycle,

Twisting and turning and nearly falling every second,

And I cant explain the warmth that spreads in my chest,

They're not doing well by any stretch of the imagination,

And yet I feel so proud?

I want to tell them that but I dont know what that is,

They pedal away from me laughing with the wind,

Circling back and screeching to a stop at my back,

Showing off while tumbling to the ground,

I laugh,

This sight is precious,

We sit and play cards as the daylight fades,

Paying it no heed,

I've forgotten how to play,

And they'll explain again without complaint,

They'll win and I wont even notice,

To busy staring at their hands and drinking in their laugh,

As threats echo out into the dark,

Falling on deaf ears,

They're as real as when we fight,

Running away laughing

Slowing down to ensure they'll catch up,

And wrap their arms about me,

Laughing as we lie in the mud,

The issue long forgotten as we debate the stars,

Somehow never finding the plough,

Yet neither willing to stop and get up,

Time passes and food calls,

We'll get up and walk back side by side,

As I long to link arms,

No one can judge us here,

I'll wake up in the morning with a stiff back from lying on the cold earth,

And we'll go back to long conversations,

And hands on back,

Talking about nothing,

Backs to the world,

Facing each other,

Always drawing back near,

Like springs,

Doing everything together,

Inseparable,

Making everything a game to win,

Making excuses for our losses,

~~~

I'll ask you out to a party,

Saying you being there will make it enjoyable,

You declineI knew you would,

You say it's not your thing,

And i know it's not,

That you only went to meet people,

That now you have our friend group,

Now you have me,

That'll we will leave in an hour anyway to stand outside and stare at the moon,

That it's cold and you're tired,

That you got up early just to eat breakfast with me,

That it will stress you out,

And I know you're right,

But as everyone comes up and reassures me that it's not personal you just really hate parties,

Even your family,

I decide that they must be able to see how I feel your absence,

How I hear a joke and look around to explain it to you,

How I love my friends but I miss your presence,

I take a break to go look at the moon,

Your dad joins me,

He tells me about how hard you try to do my things with me,

How it means the world to him that I'll help you rearrange the chairs again and again,

That you're sorry,

That you wish you could go to this party,

That's hes never seen you trust someone so quickly,

That the panic for every little accident is not my fault,

That hes sorry,

For how he raised you,

For not teaching you how to dance,

So that you could come to this party,

And I know that's not what he means,

For not teaching me how to read you,

So that I could understand,

So that I could ask you out,

I go back inside holding my drink,

Someone says they thought I'd left,

That no one would blame me if I had to spend time with my boyfriend,

I dont correct them,

Instead I roll it over with my tongue,

Unsastisified yet hooked,

It tastes just right,

But I will never ask you,

And neither will you,

Unable to disturb this fragile equilibrium,

I miss the jokes in chemistry,

Now every time we do reactions,

I think of you,

I hesitate but turn,

And tap you on the back,

Your face lights up,

Surely you cant be that happy about my questions,

You dont know the answer either,

Someone wonders why I'd ask you,

I cant answer that,

Your eyes sparkle knowingly And I know we'll be alright

I sit on the rock and watch as the tide flows in,

Ebbing and flowing,

It's hard to judge if its high tide,

If this is as bad as it gets,

Until the waters gone,

Ghostly shadows on the wall,

The mark of what was,

Today last week and three years ago,

Pernmanetly engraved,

The water shimmers and disappears,

Miles upon miles of sand opening upA new world to explore,

A transient space ,

Existing for only a few hours,

Endless boundless,

Walking further,

Just for more sand to appear,

Bag on the pier shrinking slowly,

Time paused,

Until you get there,

The waves that hit you,

With the force to knock you out,

To drag you with them,

Crush you into the wall,

Grind you against the stones,

Feeble at your feet,

No more than a centimetre tall,

Cold,

But not unbareable so,

Not if you dont care,

Standing ankle deep,

No one in sight,

And you just keep walking,

One step in front of you,

The cold water clinging to your waist,

Is no distraction ,

You walked this far,

Enjoying this world,

Why stop now,

So you keep walking,

Watching the ocean surround you,

Nothing else to see,

But the sky a few shades brighter,

It's beautiful really,

Until your feet dont touch the floor ,

And you float there,

Until the sky fades,

Nothing but waterIn your vision,

In your clothesIn your lungs,

So I turn back ,

Leisurely pace,

Keeping just ahead of the tide between me,

Letting it nip my ankles,

Before I speed up,

Never running,

Never escaping,

Dust before you,

And the sea behind,

Time will stretch,

The speck on the horizon,

Becomes the wall ,

Towering over you,

You have to turn now,

Up the stairs to the permanent world,

To sights and colour and variation,

To things other than seagulls for company,

To sounds that could almost be voices,

But the waves are back now,

Not content to lap at your feet,

They need to remind you,

Of their power ,

Of the violence,

You can climb up the stairs,

You can run you can fight,

But you will always lose,

You will always be overwhelmed,

The tide has turned,

And come back for you,

You can dig your nails in the stone,

You can crawl back up,

But as soon as the next wave hits you'll be gone,

You're not getting back,

So you let go,

Youd rather jump,

Than fall batter and bruised,

Skin raw and bleeding,

So instead you sink light slowly fading,

And two months from now,

I'll come back to the pier,

And listen to the gossip,

Points and stares,

That's him,

That's the kid they found,

Half drowned,

Lying out in the storm.

Have a silly goose too

valentines day? No, extended sounds of brutal pipe murder day thank you