days

there are good days and there are bad,

there are easy days and there are hard.

there are moments of pure emotion,

my eyes well up and the heart swells,

my pulse races and thoughts disappear into mist even before being fully formed.

those times when I would run to the moon hoping to shed myself,

when I would gather the clouds around to hide from the intensity of my own inward gaze.

there are times when sorrow masks itself with laughter,

a smile hanging loosely like a neon sign outside a derelict shopping district

a playful chuckle standing as sombre sentry

keeping watch over the true feelings buried deep within

there are fragments filled with such an immensity of activity

that finding the time to do anything is in itself a feat,

these days when the hands work so that mind will not,

the body is engaged in hopes that the heart be distracted

but there are always

choruses and verses,

places, both real and dreamt,

words and sounds,

sunrises and sunsets

all of these things and a dozen beside

that remind me just how much

imissu

famous...

...last words of a dying dream.

I lean in to catch the slightest whisper,
breathing laboured, face drained of life,
body ravaged by anxiety and disappointments looming

I see your lips move, sound visibly struggling to escape
only the finest gossamer thread of hope holding body and spirit together

panic clutches my heart as I recognise the familiar
glossing over of the eyes, focussing on the middle distance

you gather the last of your strength and beckon me close
and say,


"I'm sorry, I've found someone new"

the kiss

Then she kissed me. Without any warning, any invitation, right there in the middle of the street, stuck between a supermarket and a train station she walked up and kissed me. She kissed me like we had been kissing for years. The kiss spoke of time wasted yet with sweetest promises of time to yet be, it proclaimed freedom and vitality and singularity of purpose, it sang with passion and abandon and wanton disregard. At that very second my mind was filled with only her, in that instant of purest clarity it was like all creation had fallen away embodied in this one perfect moment, this one perfect kiss and her, the deliverer thereof. I stood there as the clear summer’s day died, casting a rich red and purple haze across the western sky and for the first time I saw clearly everything that we were. Or rather, everything that she was. Her smile and the way she turned into my hand as I run my fingers across the back of her neck, her eyes that blazed with passion as much when we argued as they shone when she laughed. And her laugh, oh I missed her laugh. Had it really been that long? I feel like I’ve just come up for air, like a prisoner released from confinement beneath the earths surface. An eternity apart then a chanced encounter had led to this and here we are. I didn’t realise how much I missed her until now. I ache with the suddenness of this realisation and at the same time I am soothed by her very presence, her scent, her warmth. Torturous in its intensity but completely irresistible (perhaps I cannot will not resist) I commit myself to a total surrender to her. It is then I know that I cannot be without her. And it is only then I know that I can not be without her. But all is not well. In this moment of clarity, this moment of bare, brazen, introspective honesty, I see one more thing. I see that we cannot be together, I see why we drifted apart, I see passion lost, hearts betrayed and tears cried in secret places and words, angry and contorted, spoken in public. Tears gather like little storm clouds in my eyes and as much as I will them away with lids firmly shut reality will not be denied. And in that moment I do the cowardly thing, I take the easy route. I give in to the perfect kiss, I give in to the perfect embrace and as I listen to it tell the story of us I kiss her in return. And we draw apart.

it's not you, it's me

I really don't want you to feel bad. after all we've both put into this I think it's only fair that I say this, it's not you, it's me. after all the months and tears, it's not you, it's me.

it's not your inability to share feelings, thoughts and emotions. it's not your cold attitude and unwillingness to be part of my life. it's not even the way you treat me like I don't exist in front of your friends, those rare times you've allowed us to meet, it's me.

I really appreciate your quirky insecurity that has had me jumping through hoops to appease you. that way you never got over previous relationships so that I've had to work doubly hard since the day we met. the way you never have anything to say, never have anything to add, never express any desire to be in my presence. it's not you, it's me.

it's my fault this won't work because I grew up. it's my fault this won't work because I've finally decided I'm worth more. it's my fault this won't work because though I didn't believe it possible I've finally run out of patience.

so don't feel bad, don't change who you are for me because at the end of the day sweetheart, it's not you at all.

I've just moved on.

(don't you wish you thought of this kind of stuff closer to the time?)