#ludle

this is no place for me.

I have been so far from here - I don't recognise the landmarks or the locals. I heart. I wave. I acknowledge.

There is no place for me;

I keep reaching out but my arms are getting tired, my mind weary and my heart has locked its doors...

The walls are crumbling,  the couch cushions are shifting within this mind space  she created for you.

Time is dripping in ripples from a ceiling that no longer  receives laughter as payment for rent -  the hours of anguish & heartbreak  the minutes of struggle within survival the seconds of piercing, painful wails are no longer adequate.

Jumbled feelings & thoughts lay strewn about the carpet, ~ interwoven disappointment  creates word clouds erupting  in terror from her unfiltered mouth.

She still fluffs the pillows  to bring you comfort,  she still sets reminders of function,  she still brings you stars  for all your dreams.

But...

Her heart is checking airline schedules and weather warnings -  because once you’ve wrecked the room  her mind has built for you

dopamine & adrenaline rushes to take hands one last time in order to depart; 

We created paths, lined our sorrow with stars and cradled the other’s skull beneath trembling lips that made prophetic nights fill with sweetness, laughter, agony, fear, anxiety, love, & even light.

You filled me with soul - with a focus sworn only to our time as we dug new paths with words that clunked as metal resounding ideals such as marriage, tomorrow, forever.

But now I sit, cradling my skull between wrists still reaching to hold onto something that sits atop the crystal sun while I swear eulogies to the sunken moon.

You were everything and I, I am

Twirling in your grace, carefully pointing my tongue toward the sound of your name - cutting through wishes of “be with me, please” and black lines on pages written with the swift motion of your trembling hands.

You traverse this battlefield called life with me, moving from blessing to blessing although the paths between each feel like an eternity.

Tinkering in your praise, my tears resemble prose when you say “you’re beautiful” and I am in awe that you do not see...

You are the beautiful one my dear, the one who relentlessly seeks my light when all I give is darkness.

Against my will, invite the clock so time’s shadow can cast spirits across our map.

Weigh my jaded belief by the cuts made in our love through the clear flames of decay.

Prescribe this verse once more to yourself so I can feel the shame of our vacant ticking hands.

Often cruel, sometimes tender your words cast memories in shades of seconds.