The babe lay asleep,
I kept my coughs curdling in my throat,
Not a dust mote crossing his breath
Ought to disturb him.
His eyes danced underneath his eyelids,
Foxtrotting in his dreams,
I smiled with a patience that took only years
To build, then I wandered to my thoughts,
Away from him. Far as possible.
“My name is Your Other Half, marry me, say you will”.
He tangles my heartstrings, plucking my skin of “silk”.
Oh stitcher, the word-thief is asleep,
And boils the fire in my lungs, twixt’ ignored protests,
He persists, with an insistence I call a lie.
The eye of the clock watches the little world,
I fix my coordinates stood in a blank forest some early morning,
Trying to remember where did I go wrong,
When my aborted relationship failed like a popped condom,
Did I suddenly become a soul that couldn’t forge a happy love?
You know December brings a chill that I seem to identify myself with,
This isn’t a hate poem, this is just me,
Realising that I was never ready for a new pasture to grow on.
Io voglio, Io uccido, Io vivo, my imaginary friend says you say,
You hold a boat only at half mast, carrying my premature heart,
And it resides in the sea of your mouth,
Resting between the gap of your two front teeth,
Will you close your lips?
Press tight, smash the little thing bobbing between an airless sticky concave,
Warmer than summer, underneath the duvets,
I try to fix my cerebral tongue to speak your language,
But no one could comprehend anything such as this.
No one could understand the inner turmoil.
The self-regret shrouding me like a bad spirit,
Oblong and black, it blindfolds my eyes.
I fall into the same kiss,
He takes me for granted,
And whispers the truth,
Staring into the lit fireplace behind me.