An Awkward Collection Of Poems About Death #3

 

The thing about loss
Is that it didn’t hit me
When it happened.
I didn’t feel loss.
Not when I got the call.
Not when I attended our last party together
Everyone wearing black.
Her favourite colour.
Not when there were two bodies
and only one person
that last time I saw her.
Pale.
No, I didn’t feel loss.
I felt everyone else’s loss
And made it my own.
A vacancy inside me
Filled with pain
not of my own doing.
And that made it worse.

It was three days later
I was checking my phone
And I didn’t see her name
Pop up at the crank of dawn.
She wasn’t on my recents
Only recently passed.
The vacancy started to fill up
With the deafening sound of absence.

A week later I was at a book store
I found a book with chapters named
Only in odd numbers.
She was an odd little one.
She would have liked it.
I almost bought the book for her.

Thirty one days later
That movie she wanted to see
Came out.
I went alone.

It’s just one never-ending monotone.
Sometimes you forget she’s gone.
She’s still there, you know.
Writing, eating, breathing.
Am I lying to myself or is time lying to me?
And my ears pick up the monotone again.
A frustration.
Of so much to say
But when you turn the recorder on
You realise you have nothing to record.
Succumb to the monotone.

A year and a half later
I shift to a new city
Unloading the pieces of my life.
I find a stone.
Our hike up the mountain.
When she told me
She’d move mountains for me.
And suddenly I feel selfish.
Because I had not thought of her
For a year.

The vacancy never really gets filled.
The pain just numbs until
You trick yourself into believing
You are as you were.
Whole.
Without loss.
With nothing to find.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop looking.

Time Machine

I wish I had a time machine
To undo my mistakes in the past.
To work harder and be kinder
And make my friendships last.

I wish I had a time machine
To appreciate the people around me.
To give back the love they gave
And tell them my love is free.

I wish I had a time machine
I would spend more time alone,
Making myself a better person
Talking to my loved ones on the phone.

I wish I had a time machine
So I could meet all my deadlines on time.
Because sometimes if you wait too long
It’s too late to pay the fine.

I wish I had a time machine
To undo the mistakes of my counterpart.
Because I was in love with the feeling.
And our mistakes ripped apart.

I wish I had a time machine
To work more passionately every time.
To be more fearless with the spoken word
To create my own design.

But then I look around me
And I see the people that I have.
If everything I’ve done.
Lead up to this one.
I would never give it up even if I can.

Autumn Sweater

I see her in the distance
It’s been too long
She isn’t the way I remember her
Maybe I imagined her wrong.

She’s more radiant, authentic, real
And I can see her flaws
But that’s what makes her the
Girl I once loved.

I hesitate, should I move towards her?
Should I utter a meaningless greeting?
After all these battles and wounds
Will she be hostile; bleeding?

Should I be too? After all she
Broke me, bled me till I was black and white
Till colour wasn’t in my dictionary
Yes, I will keep my stand and fight.

She broke my heart,
I’ll break her apart.

But her eyes catch hold of me
Like dreams in a dream catcher
Like a forest fire beautifully ablaze
Like the spectrum of her laughter

I remember as her eyes search mine
The childish crinkles and giggles
She’s more beautiful than in my dreams
Memories, traditions and kisses.

I was wrong.
I replaced my heart with my liver
My dreams with revenge
And my nightmares with her.

I move towards her and see
Her eyes, bubbling with fear
Did I really scar her so badly
She can’t have me near?

Pools of unbridled emotion emerge
And I take a step towards her
She doesn’t move away
My senses blur.

I’ve never seen her so afraid
She was my queen and I was her king
But the girl in front of me
Is a deer in headlights, carefully listening.

I move closer. Her hand
On my face is my medi-sin
Her scent, her eyes, her neck
She is my skin.

She is my home.
I was running away
Elixirs and potions to drown my fear
All I needed was her to stay.

I’ll stop running away now.
I need her, now and forever.
She is my home.
She is my autumn sweater.

Open With Caution

‘Open with caution’, he warns
You may not like what you see
Thousands before you have feared
The real picture of me.

I open the box with hesitation
Mixed with fear and elation
The creek opens an empty cabinet
Is this his biggest temptation?

‘Ahh, I see you have found it
The mirror of my heavy spirit
The box is empty and so am I
This is what you are to commit.’

I look in his eyes and see
The opposite of his reality
He is so full of life and love
He’s a lock and I’m the key.

My hand on his cheek I say
‘I’m willing to take the risk and stay’.

Ethereal

With his hands cold
On my shoulders and hips
With his voice in my mouth
He takes a sip
Of me and he moans
I’m not just a pretty face
No that can be erased
He tells me I’m subjective
Existing only in poetic imagination
Concealed as an ideal
Of volatile origin.
And that’s why he cannot believe I’m real.
Only ethereal.
So he holds me close and devours me whole.

Stardust

Seperated by stardust
The only escape for us
To travel a million miles
Just to make me smile
Even if you can’t see me
You’ll put down your cuppa tea
And dial my number
In the middle my slumber
To hear my voice again
Match our wavelengths.
Laugh till the end
Of the night in your arms
Away from all harm.

him.

He is gentle.
He is kind.
He left me
Completely blind.

He promised coffee
On rainy Sundays.
But now I drink
My pain away.

He is stubborn.
He is rash.
He took my heart
And didn’t give it back.

He told me, yes
The day would come.
When all I’ll have left
Would be memories and some.

Random moments
When we were happy.
Those gifts he’d promised
But never give me.

He is safety.
He is strong.
He didn’t mean to
Do me such wrong.

Or at least I think so
I need something
To hold on to.
So I can sleep.

He loved me.
He said he did.
So I hold on to that.
Till the memories dim.

He was loving.
He was afraid.
That I’d write this,
Poem one day.

Little Brown Puppy

There’s a little brown puppy
Down on my street
He has scars on his ears
And dust on his feet.

When I walk past him
He scurries away
I catch a glimpse of his eyes
They beg me to stay.

So I come around often,
And he meets me there
I decide to adopt him
He deserves that much care.

But when I take him home
Be bites me and scurries far away
He doesn’t know what love is
He is afraid.

Pretend

Why do people pretend
The world is in black and white?
There is yin in the yang
And kindness in the spite.

Why do people pretend
To be someone they’re not?
Colouring themselves in a better light
Dissolving their own colours and free thought.

Why do people pretend
That they cannot love deeply?
Emotions are meant to be felt
Not buried away for eternity.

Why do people pretend
They can’t admit when they’re wrong?
Realising your flaws isn’t weakness
It makes you strong.

Why do people pretend
That they can face the world alone?
When you are hurting from your wounds
I’ll be here, with smiles and tinctures
In that home you left long ago.

Molotov Cocktail

The problem with loving someone like her is that
she’s going to get herself killed one day.

She’s got that fire in her eye
Warning signal, red and smoke.
She is armed and dangerous
Dare not be foolish to provoke.

She’s clever and quick
On her feet and in wit.
And she doesn’t believe that
You can’t have your cake and eat it.

She’s that curious cat
Purring everyone into submission,
But we all know how the
Cat turned out in that rendition.

People are either wary of her
Or in awe, mouth open wide.
Some are even scared
Some have no where to hide.

Because she can infiltrate your mind
And a civil war will play out,
Can you love a molotov cocktail
Beyond a shadow of a doubt?