All souls, no matter how lost, have that one light flickering within

I break apart, 
losing chunks of my skin as it flakes away, 
my blood congealing like rotten milk as it falls from gaping wounds. 


Bones whine and crack, 
muscles dry and tear. 
They too fall away from me. 
Pieces of my body lay strewn in a long winding path. 


Until all that is left marching onwards is a single speck of light. 
Within it are not my memories or thoughts. 
Only my essence. 
My emotion. 
The love kept locked in for a lifetime, finally exposed to the cold air. 
A love I carried for a lifetime hoping it would find you. 
A love that now lives without the impurity of flesh, left with a simple singular purpose. 


To love.

There is no Tomorrow, but a series of Today

Tomorrow will never come. 
Today just decides he wants to be something else when the sun rises again. 
So too should you try on a new version of yourself with each new day, until you find yourself. 
And then leave him behind as well to find someone else new.

The phones don't sleep at night

My phone is not my tether to an alternate reality, where invisible neon lines connect me to the Great Barrier Reef and the tops of Everest and wherever else your flights of fancy take you. 


It is simply near me in case you need an ear to cry into at night. 


Kept away from me so you don't hear my own whimpers. 

My moonlighting requires a cape

I wake early in the morning and rest late at night, so that for a few hours, my life will be as it was without me wondering what it is you are upto. 


So that I know you are safely in the bed I left you in.

All of the lights

I close my eyes and the universe past the clouds open up to me
I tumble backwards from the inside of my eye sockets, into a lake of warm milk, tasting of vanilla and sugar
The sky is a bright yellow, not from the sun, but from the million million stars apparent to me all at once
But I can see the edges of the universe, the stars reflecting off of it clear and hollow
Just milk and stars
Like the inside of a lightbulb
My feet burn with energy, expanding and oozing out of my skin as red hot lava and hardening to a soft chocolatey smooth cake
My eyes melt away into gooey sorbet dripping down and into the milk
No longer necessary as the universe unfolds to show the razor edge line of past melding into the future
A record needle following the line of time, playing out everyone's story as they pass into and out of the focus of the needle
It suddenly all makes so much sense, why we are what we are and do the evil we do
But the next beat of the bass enraptures me with a new reality

Slip of pink

I turn my eyes away, 
ashamed to behold that which I covet the most, 
lying uncovered before me, 
without guard or veil. 


I am waiting for the beating that is sure to follow

Repressed Memories

Something new has broken in your mind. 
I will spend my next lifetime searching for the symptoms of what you did to bind your reality back together, 
So I may find my place in it once more.

I don't give a fuck if it's raining

The guitar slips a bit in my hand, but I tense my grip to hold it steady
I stare out into the darkness in front of me, feeling the bated breaths of thousands of people
Staring just for me
But no, it's not just for me
They are waiting for the same thing I am waiting for
That perfect first thrash
They are waiting for the bass to drop, for the solo to start
They are waiting for the music they have waited so long in horrid weather
They are waiting
And so am I

A friendship worth a 1000 pictures

Our friendship is worth more than you or I. 
Who are we to destroy something the other holds so dear for such a fleeting thing as love. 
Our love to each other would explode like fireworks over a lake, 
but our love for each other will keep each other warm in the winter of our lives.

Artifact

Love is dead in this city.
It feel like a lost relic.
An antique worth only a few p,
Left sitting on a shelf collecting dust.
Just waiting for you to come back.

Tension

We talk quietly, hushed whispers that barely clear the hum of the air conditioner.
This is all so familiar, so natural.
Innocent.
Your face mirrors mine: calm, long with the worries of the day. Ready for bed.
But I can see that something else is in your eye.
A secret longing that glows just above your pupil.
We are unaware of the riptide lurking below.
Just waiting for one of us to dip a foot in.
Just waiting to drag us far and deep to a place we have come to fear yet secretly wish to find, together.
Your eyes close.
Your whispers turn to mumbles.
Sleep takes you.
I am not far behind.
Safe for one more night.

Cliff

Mornings used to be my favourite time.
Well, really, my favourite time used to be when we first woke up.
After a long night of quiet conversation, whispered secrets, and love.
The love was always caring, but passionate.
He was such a handsome man back then.
But those mornings, they were what I really cherished.
After we got over each other's morning breath and crusty eyes, and just lay in each others arms.
But then of course school ended, and we moved to the big city, and got jobs.
The bags under his eyes grew heavier and grey, just like the flab of skin over his belly.
But I didn't mind that so much.
Then the time we woke up was just the time that followed the time that we slept.
Sometimes that was preceded by some run of the mill sex.
Most times it wasn't.
But I didn't mind that so much either.
I just was sad that our mornings we used to love so much were gone.
At least the mornings I loved so much.
Now he was out of bed before I was even awake.
He wouldn't wake me with a kiss anymore.
By the time I felt his weight leave the bed, he was already closing the bathroom door.
The first time I would see him in the morning these days was in the kitchen.

I used to cook him breakfast.
Back when I was still looking for a job and he had just gotten his at the newspaper.
He would complain about his work, both the big and the little things, and I would hang on his every word.
He loved to share with me before.

Now that I have a job that starts later, we interact for only five minutes in the morning.
I don't even sit.
I stand and drink my herbal tea.
The tea I drink to supplement the workouts I do, both during my lunch hour and after work.
To keep my body toned, fit.
Beautiful.
For the man sitting across the table from me.
With his nose in a book.
Chewing on a bagel.
His jowls bouncing with each clench of the jaw.
His messy combover slowly falling back over.
Not saying a single damn word.
He never tells me what he is thinking now.
But it's okay, I don't really mind.

Well that's not entirely true.
I know what he's thinking a lot of the time.
A lot of the time he is angry with me.
I never understand why.
I know I sometimes make mistakes.
But I can't just change overnight.
In fact I shouldn't have to change, should I?

No, he's usually right.
I should be a better driver, and a better cook.
Just a better wife in general.
He gets angry and frustrated and I know why.
I can be a better person and I know it.

I sip my tea and watch the wall.
His face makes me a little sick.
Just a little.
But I still remember the handsome face I fell in love with.
I see it buried there under all the fat.
Just like how his love must now be buried too.

I've counted all the tiles on this wall more times than I will ever need to.

Casual Smoker

I forget why I did it in the first place.
I forget what it did to you.

Insecurity

When you're in a relationship you have to let your guard down.
But I don't.
I'll keep watch for both of us.

From out here

From out here there is no blue sky to accent your eyes. No gentle thrum of the morning traffic to underscore our unspoken affection.
There isn't the distraction of our lives to wipe out our fights and nights of passion.
From out here I can see the sun in its naked glory. The stars are vast and plentiful.
From out here I can see you for what you are. And I love you all the more for it.