Tag Archives: eccedentesiast.

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.


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.


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.


heart.

​i’m doing
it all wrong
again.
every moment
is a chance
for betrayal.
every moment
is a chance
to lose.

in my mind
it is not
a chance:
it is certain.
he will leave,
and you
will fall,
every knife pointed
at my own bloody heart. 


disparate.

and then reality
broke through
her skin
with the fierceness
of a blade;
and waves upon waves
of self-loathing
and the impracticalities,
the burden
of this depressed life.
her head falls
to the caress
of her sweaty,
oily palms.

how to destroy
this feeling?

these days,
her fingers only
stop shaking
when sleep
engulfs her
bleak, diseased body.
she’s seen
the despair before,
but somehow
this entrapment
is different.
she is a fool
faking the light,
before it attacks again.


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.


guileless.

help me push it;
are you even trying?
i can help you
if you are trying.

walk through
the broken glass city
and reach past
your pivotal coccoon.

the breeze is cool,
but there is no breeze.

see through the shutters
and mixed feelings of hope
and desire and tropical
cocktails and transcendence.

i am sheltered
by the nocturnal wind
but attacked by a gale-like
mind of terror and guileless anxiety.

the breeze is cool,
but there is no breeze.


platitude.

i am
a walking dead
of smiles
and blood,
platitudes
and saliva.

walk
with me
and you
will miss
the dancing,
the blood.