Monthly Archives: September 2015

colostrum.

it was then
i started
to question;
did the supplement
force me
to relinquish
my human rights?
was i inflicting
cruel, unjust harm?
should i feel
more guilt
at a life of torture
and abandonment?

i do not care
for her approval
but my reaction
was allergic.
“you’re sick
because of the
chemicals you pump
into yourself.”
how dare you.

she likened me
to a drug addict.
pill pusher,
injecting hormones.
but i am not
the one
addicted to
sugar;
arrogance and judgment.

Advertisements

potassium.

luscious curves
and placid, trembling
facade of peace.

the walls
stand tall and
a statue watches.

rain. rain
and thunder, hurl
me across the plain desert.

i yearn for hunger
and scream, desperate
to feel the need; warmth.

cool edges
with silver throats
to slice and burn.


molybdenum.

it started as a trace;
i thought
to boost immunity.
innocent, pure;
not quite a mutual trust.
in fact i think
it was inverse:
the further i fell,
the more i gave;
the deeper you dug,
the more you kept.

i realised
i hurt myself
by assuming
the silence
was rejection.
instead i should
have taken more
while the mineral
supply sustained.
instead i should
have taken more.


colour.

don’t ask me for my colours,
you’ll only tell me
they are shadows,
shades, appearance.
fuck perception.

polaroid sunglasses
mean you can’t see
through my trademark
sarcasm and scorn.
no connection.

it is a typical pattern;
i confess my sins
and bare my ugliness.
but you smile; you’re lost
in affection.

i tried to tell you
i won’t – i can’t – pretend;
this is false love.
you land stunned and betrayed.
base confusion.


surprising.

i said the words
and i thought of
him;
surprising.
but his grin
makes me blush,
and in his presence
i feel strong,
yet protected.


divination.

i thought it
but i didn’t want it.
but i wondered
what it could mean.

sadness. obviously.
despair.
self loathing;
did i wish it?

desperation. depression.
why do all the words
start with d?
100% irony.

but then i also wondered.
would there be relief?
what of the desire?
another d.

i thought it
but i didn’t want it.
but i wondered
what it could mean.


walk.

it’s a nice night
for a walk,
i said to the stars;
trace his footsteps
through the trees.

it’s a nice night
for a walk;
the stars agreed.
forests of shadowy gloom
and black silence.

it’s a nice night
for a walk;
i trip, i stutter, i don’t fall.
rows of flowers
mark the path home.


awake.

my first thought.
my second.
and then.

hands to the mirror.
is it tired eyes
that softens the blow?

i am astounded
by the hope
i can muster.

in those
first, foggy
moments.

why is it,
that it appears
softer, less raw, less depleted.

five minutes later
and the illusion
is shattered.

familiar reality;
the moment of perfection
a mere mirage.


thirty-one.

they never told me
when you were born.
so i picked a random
time.
i don’t think you
would mind.

they never told me
what you were like.
so i discovered you
myself.
i don’t think you
minded.

but no-one can tell me
what you might
have been like.
at 31.
i don’t think they
know.

i would like
to see you with wrinkles.
just enough to show
you lived.
i try to forget
it broke my heart.


vault.

where do you keep your secrets?
now that the vault
has been shattered?

stories of pain
and humour and yearning
and darkness.

do they spill over the earth
like a tsunami
of deception?

can they read your dreams now?
decipher your most intimate
truths and hypothesis?

if they are all revealed,
will you try
to defend yourself?

now where will you keep your secrets?
they will multiply.
but your vault is shattered.