Tag Archives: black

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.

Advertisements

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.


home.

will it be warm,
but just cool enough?
to lick
your cheek
with the missing breeze?

will they cry
when they see you?
returned bruised
and tired,
and her eyes are different.

will she fade
again; a breathing ghost?
like all the times
before; a sobbing,
decimated tree log.

will the bites fade
before they see?
where pain meant
a relief and a fuel
to find home.


stare.

all she can manage
is a blank,
black, foggy stare.

my mind vacant
and numb,
does it convince you?

“i live inside
your face.”
and i itched to free you.

his silence was
a trap and a breath;
watch me fade away.

the fog reaches
my eyes;
my body is not mine.

my strength has wilted,
everything you knew,
reduced to a stare.


4WD.

i know:

i must be
the only one
looking for that
black escape.

always a surprise,
but not unwelcome;
filling me
with a tired warmth.

like the night
we stepped off
the edge
of this world;

and finally found
a space
just for us.

i yearn to lie
next to you again
and melt
into the smoky, thick
comforting clouds.


rubber.

sometimes
you smell
like blu-tac.
it makes me
imagine
your veins
as twisted,
malleable,
rubber.

sometimes
she sounds
like rubber.
it makes him
recoil
and remember,
she was raised
on a farm,
with pigs as best friends.

sometimes
he looks
like music.
it makes me
imagine
his veins
as twisted,
charred,
rubber.


limbo.

it’s cold today,
but the birds
sailed by.

my backbone chilled
and my eye sockets
are weakened.

his lips felt wanting;
her lips were small
and bruised.

the wind mocks me
and again i am
a soulless ghost.

but if merely a ghost,
why do i feel
so cold?

let me go numb,
until this passes
and something else remains.


trademark.

that was a hard
thing to do.
like always,
this paradox
of wanting
something
so badly
that in the end,
i don’t want
it at all.
the loss when
it is over
is not as deep
as i used to feel.

the surprise
is your trademark –
it happens now,
or not at all –
and i always
wonder
if part of you
hopes to miss
the chance
for complexity.
like the forlorn
longing is worth more
than confused frustration.


gentleman.

i see your images of folly
and circles of wisdom;
i see the route ahead
blocked and porous.
“how do you sleep at night?”
he asked with an intrusive,
political smile.
“what sort of cat
asks for supper before 10am?”
“what sort of fox
opens the door like a gentleman?”
lick his throat
and watch your fingernails
down her back.
watch the black liquid
pool and flood.


paramedic.

the ambulance
still scares me;
scars me.
i see the footpath
with your blank face
and the blood.

i see them
shuttling past,
jostling through.
like that night,
no sirens
means more tears.

i put your photo
in the black frame;
your hat is too small,
but you smile
and i pretend
you’re not so far away.