Saturday 26 July 2014

The Taste of Dust

I want to go to the desert.

Dust and heat,
reddened shoulders.
Chapped and cracked
hands and lips.

dry dry dry

Blue sky.
The taste of earth
in my mouth.
Every memory
slightly burnt.

Cool water
is a blessing;
nightfall a
virtual cleansing.

Cool air:
the sky explodes
into a million
constellations.

dry dry dry

When the sun comes up,
the sky is alive:
colours painted above
the horizon line.

I want to go to the desert.

Tuesday 22 July 2014

Anyway

I avoid mirrors
I dare not look my sad self
in the eyes,
for I am not what I've claimed to be:
I am made up of lies.

(Save one.

My love for you
is my only truth.)

What would the woman
I make myself out to be
think of the woman
that's actually me?

I am weak.
Powerless.
Without a sense of self preservation
I love you to the point of my own damnation.

I continue to love you
as you chisel away at my heart,
burying the shards beneath your skin.
I watch as you fill yourself
with my love, but like some
black hole, you do not reflect it back.
I disappear.

I betray my own self
with every day that I continue to
offer my heart to you,
my soul prostrate before you,
with every moment that I beg
for what should be given freely.

I love you beyond what is sane,
but even knowing that I cannot turn away.
My heart is yours to do with what you may,
and to this end, I've accepted my fate.

I am yours, I have given you everything.
And so I lay naked at your feet,
waiting for you to deign to accept me.
knowing you never will.
still loving you anyway.

Corpses

Every dream you have
is like a star in the sky,
and you are reaching for the heavens.

Every star in the sky
has long been dead, which means
you are reaching for corpses.

Priorities

"What's wrong?
Why are you crying?"
You don't ask.

"I love you
more than I love me,"
I don't answer.

Walking

So many memories fill
the corners of this city,
the alleys and the dark spaces.
You, and you, and you
were there,
taking pieces of me,
burying them in the city streets.
Sometimes I stumble over them,
heart-filled concrete
- or is it the other way around? -
to remind me of what is missing.

Regrets

I long for you
to yearn for me
the way Pandora yearned
to know.

You released every terrible
feeling within me,
and worst of all
is Hope.