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.

Poisoned by Lead(ers)

There was a girl,
Born with the world In her hands,
but she didn’t share
No she couldn’t care.

And this prodigious girl
Knew from the start,
Blessed with beauty and brains,
she was Destined for fortune and fame.

The girl knew she was destined
To lead us poor souls, restless
To make it to the top
It was her birthright, of course.

Who else would take the reins,
The rest were all too plain.
“The mortals should be honoured
To have me as their ‘mother’.”

However, some were not convinced,
And she determined them to be minced.
She demanded their respect.
How dare they object?

So she sent out a message,
To all the non believers,
And this is is the response
Of one such receiver:

I got a message the other day
From someone with too much to say
Told me I should make them my leader
And who am I? A bottom feeder?

Oh my dear sweet innocent ‘leader’
Let me tell you why I’m not a believer.
Why should I stand by you?
Became you tell me to?

My leader won’t ask for my respect.
That’s something for me to accept
Don’t try to buy my reverence,
It is not your defence.

There are many that proclaim,
“You are not worthy of such fame.
Entitlement is not an accomplishment,
With nothing to your name, you’ll repent.”

So my dear sweet child,
The world is rarely so mild.
Be ready for a rebellion,
For we, the followers, will be jubilant.