Despair

Hoping against hope,

Wishing we didn’t collide into one another,

And neither collapse into a disastrous indifference,

I wait for us to come back to you

And me.

Through my days,

Your eyes smile through dimly lit corridors,

Shadows of light that I keep from filtering in,

Onto my scattered thoughts,

Spill all across the expanse of my memories of you,

Nevertheless.

I will sing songs that liken us to lost stars,

So that I know this can be ethereal.

And beyond my control is this world where we, bereft of gravity to pull us to one another,

Drift apart,
Over news and cups of tea.

Forlorn

image

You are a devil forlorn:
The surreal stream of my consciousness
Morbid and morose you rise,
Even when it is bright outside.
And I imagine meteor showers as I walk to work.

And for a reason unfathomable,
My feet are at your command,
With roots that perlocate the ground,
When rain falls like a thundershower.

Yet inseparable as we are,
You make me wonder,
What it is like,
To drown,
To burn,
To suffocate,
To be crushed under the weight of bridges that collapse,
When I’d rather shut my mind to thoughts.

And yet you make me meet death,
Time and again.
And see this world in an afterlife:
Tears in my eyes before I go to sleep.

No I don’t want to die.
I have watched myself from the other side,
Again.
And again.
And again.

But you’ve told me countless stories too;
Where I have saved lives,
And where I have discovered magic amongst the clouds.
And who can I credit,
For the fact that I really can,
And I have said this before:
That I really can tell where the nails in someone’s shoe hurts the most.

How I detest you sometimes,
Fickle imagination,
For showing me horrors that only exist in nightmares,
When I am wide awake.
But you have let me know,
That the solitary reaper might be singing,
Somewhere,
When he watches me intently,
As I sing my song.

You make my words come alive,
On paper like castles of sand:
Fleeting.
You, momentary as you are,
Make me the person I know I can be,
And oh,
How I love you for that!