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.


past.

he is.
i am.
we were.

your touch
is cold
and forced.

my throat
is dry
and empty.

your heart
is small
and fragile.

my fingertips
are reluctant
and strained.

your brand
of love
isn’t mine.

my lungs
keep aching
for more.

your ribs
are bruised
with effort.

you are.
i am.
we were.


e q u a t i o n.

friendship
+ lust
– satisfaction
+ stability
– romance
+ fidelity
– surprise
_______________
= lasting love?


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.


switch.

the lid
is over-flowing
with familiar
self-loathing.

but a different
kind of tremor;
no tears and
just cold, dark eyes.

no heart
can warm me.
i hear your name
and shiver.

memory and
my head aches.
the switch flipped
the wrong way.


A N D.

i play video games
and watch cars
drive past;
louder and faster,
then smaller and
silence.

find solace in
blind, unconditional
dependence.
soft and forgiving,
then warmer and
silence.

scars and bloody bruises
shake my shoulders
and i wear the pain;
fragile and tender;
then war wounds and
silence.

no more words
and no more tears;
her heart is empty again;
dull and dark;
then grey and rotting and
silence.

food is tasteless
and dreams offer
reluctant fuel;
extract my memories
then mute the pain and
silence.


slow.

i followed
the escape;
until finally
it was too
slow,
and i built
up the strength
to pass.


did you.

did you die;
and i’m still
in denial?

did you die;
and all i’m seeing
is your ghost?

did you die;
or did i just
dream you?