poison

i think of you like i think of chaos;
butterflies in a blender
and fireworks in a crowded parking lot.
you’re like this drug induced haze,
you can’t possibly be real.
you don’t dare kiss my lips,
don’t want to show your true face.
this isn’t passion, it’s not romance,
this is poison turning my insides to acid.
i know we need to stop this charade,
but you love so good when you want to,
my mind blocks the pain out; temporary amnesia.

i think of leaving you,
but can’t stop this endless slow dance.
we move in sync,
your body with mine, my heart with yours.
cowards like me hurt the most,
we cry tears for sympathy and chase ghosts.
i say you’re no good, but i still crawl back in;
i cannot do any better, you’ve spoiled me for others,
for i know i fell for celestial magnificence.

you’re moonlight bottled up;
you sweep me up like the tides,
leave me crashing and gasping for breath.
so i place my fate in your hands;
i’m a crumbling house,
i need you to fix me, brick by brick.
we’re intertwined like roots underground,
i don’t know where we start and end.
greeks say the world started with chaos.
it started with you, you’ve turned me into you.
you’ve lived a millenia now,

you embody the divine light,
so everything i own i bet on you,
i know you gamble like you breath.
i say you’re poison, you ask why i don’t leave before i die.
you don’t know what you are yet then, you don’t what you taste like.
poison only tastes like poison till you’ve swallowed it,
and i breathed you in ages ago,
all i taste now is ambrosia.

sad songs

Your laughter rings in my ears like
the sounds of construction on a sunday morning; uninvited, loud and disruptive.
it cuts through blue-gold dreams
i’ve stitched together.
it cracks – so seductive.

i almost forget about us but songbirds
chirp incessantly in the corner
of this boxed heart, set off by ringing
church bells we promised ourselves.
i scream your name late into the nights;
remembering your love for the feminine,
for me.
i tried looking for recipes of forgetfulness,
couldn’t reach the books, you stacked them on the tallest shelves.

where do i shovel this last bit of heartbreak?
the bathroom tiles have seen too much of it,
to not be sick anymore.
what do i do with what’s left of you,
the best of you?
i ask questions even god has no answers to,
he doesn’t remember us;
we built our own religion –
your skin and my sad songs our deities.

your laughter rings in my ears like
an old record that knows too much
of your story; welcome, soft and aching.
i play it on loop, mourning what once was;
it plays like a wedding song, breathtaking.

two faced

if these walls had ears,
they’d wish they were deaf.
the agony they hear everyday
burns like acid through the paint.
the screams that echo
loud through these rooms,
tear apart carefully plastered
walls, underneath which,
lie cracks filled with ghost dreams.

if these chairs could see,
they’d wish they were blind.
they bear witness to massacres
of hearts and promises,
while stangers with thorns
for words drift in and out –
devastation trailing them,
like a well worn perfume.

if these pictures had voices,
they’d wish they were dumb.
because they don’t have
answers to questions i scream
at them at 2 in the morning,
when the facade slips and
the world spins a little faster.
is this the wine talking?
might explain the stains on
the carpet, or is that blood
from when I cry too much?
hysteria tarnishes carefully
painted smiles. it sniffs out
self loathing and laughs at
my pain.

if things around me had life,
they’d wish they didn’t.
i reak of death and brokenness,
everything i touch,
i turn to dust.