Category Archives: sheep in wolf’s clothing

heat.

back in the hot room,
she remembers:
it’s been 11 years
since he walked out;
10 years
since she ran;
7 years
since he begged her back;
6 years
since she was home again.

back in the hot room,
it all came back:
as the warmth
embraced her body,
so too did the sweet
memories of a love
once unknown
and similarly suffocating.

just like the hot room:
you let it break you,
because you think it’s worth it.

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flood.

the flood
of memories
always brings with it
a sharp inhale,
and tight, heavy
boulder in his chest.

he misses
the warmth
of her body beside him;
her laugh,
and the depths of her mind
he ran out of time to discover.

his eyes
are full
of the pain and bruises;
careless rejection,
and the pretense of a friendship
that was over long ago.

his lost
his best friend,
and she’d already forgotten him;
like another possession
taken tragically in the flood,
but easily replaceable.


cup.

another one
for the cup:
cup of sugar,
cup of tea,
cup of soup.

another one
for the cup:
cup of dust,
cup of glass,
cup of blades.

another one
for the cup:
cup of blood,
cup of salt,
cup of hair.

another one
for the cup:
cup of nails,
cup of grass,
cup of pain.


safe ii.

i thought
you could
protect me.

i thought
you wanted
me safe.

i thought
you could
understand me.

i thought
you would
be proud.

i thought
you would
admire me.

i thought
you would
want to know.

i thought
we would
love.

i thought
we would
fly.

nobody is perfect.
i thought wrong.


instead.

i wish
it was
you.

instead,
the hole
remains.

instead,
another
year.

i wish
it was
you.

i need
too
much.

i speak
too
much.

i give
too
much.

i ask
too
much.

i expect
too
much.

i want
too
much.

instead,
still
not enough.

i wish
it was
you.


stride.

eat my
hand;
draw breath
and see
the raw mist.

call the
question
unearthed
and captured
in real time.

my brain
permanently
intoxicated,
high anxiety
and the dull grey.

watch her walk
see the stride,
a purpose
unknown
but free.

loose flesh
and fish oil
stains;
waiting in
silent terror.

longing sobs;
inevitable loss.
leave quietly
or rather,
don’t let me fall.


infinite.

imagine if we met,
before time had burnt us;
before the heat
was pooled at my feet.

i would clasp your hand
for eternity;
and the grey burdens
would be warmer and shared.

silence could protect us,
as we built a nest:
preparing for hibernation
in an infinite winter.


safe.

now i understand
why my wrists
have been aching –
it’s where you
held me
while i struggled.
as you spat
at me,
and i begged you
to go.
as you raged
at my riddled body,
and i begged you
to go.

i know
it’s always my fault;
i know
there’s no point arguing.
i am reduced
to the pathetic doll
once again.
another christmas
and another year
pretending.

i thought
you knew.
and i thought
i could be loved
by you.
turns out,
it’s all
just the same.
but now i understand
why my wrists
have been aching.

you might
as well
compare notes.


list.

it wasn’t long
ago;
the whiteboard
was heavy
with ink
and ideals,
scrawling passion.

is it all
that surprising,
the maddening lust
has been replaced:
just give me sunshine,
and your hands –
i’ll be happy forever.


luxury.

some days
it would be
a luxury,
to stop time;
halt the moments;
and find
a sort of respite;
a pause,
in the spinning
globe.

this place
is done.
the wars
won’t end.
and the hatred
only grows.
the people
can not be trusted.
and the animals
have fled.