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.

Snapshots

Sometimes in my dreams
I see myself
Differently
Maybe I see myself as a
Future version.
The person I want to become
Maybe not the person I do become.

I saw myself last night.
Long, thick, silky black hair
Tumbling down
Covering my bosom
I’m wearing white
And there’s sharp bright light
On my face
It’s like a snapshot
A Photo Booth
I look happy
Confident
Older, more mature
So much more mature.
And more wise.
My face has shrunk into the holes
Of ageing, my skin taut
My eyes sharp as ever.
My soul ever sharper.
I liked looking at myself like that.

I didn’t look complete.
But I looked wholesome.

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.

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.

Baggage

I dropped off my bags at the station today
I’ll never collect them again.

I wonder if someone else will find them
And look at all those memories
Wonder who these two strangers are
See all our first times, so vividly
Thru an unknown set of eyes
Will they see that love disguised
The one I never spoke of to you
The one you always knew.

Or will those bags be unclaimed
Left in the dust and stained
With the liquor of time
Tossed aside with hate and crime
Do these bags, really deserve that?

They are my bags, blue and bright
And yours are grey and white.
Same instances, different perspectives
One with colour and the other deprived.

I love them, I wish I didn’t have to.

But I drop my bags off,
And though they are precious to me,
I shall not collect them again.

What have you done with your bags?

Smiling on the train

Sometimes I catch myself
Smiling on the train.
Without any reason or rhyme,
Without your name.

My hands over my face
Embarrassed, but happy.
As I think to myself
How much you have impacted me.

And how I retain
Only the best of those
Lessons that you’ve taught me
It just goes to show.

That memories aren’t files
That you can delete or decode.
So I’ll remember you again,
One for the road.

Accident

For her:

You’ll regret this, love.
In your heart you know it too.
You’ll love her today and,
She’ll leave without you.

You don’t want to believe it, love.
She’s porcelain poison.
The way she looks at you today,
She’ll look at another man tomorrow.

She’ll make his heart beat faster,
Than she would with you.
You’ll stay up long nights
She’ll sleep without you.

Don’t stand a chance against her
Lips, eyes, scent, hips.
Neither can him, so love.
Walk away, innocent.

‘How do you walk away from
Someone you love so much?’
Ask her, she does it all the time.
With one gentle touch.

She’ll be in her worst senses,
Cause an accident with a ‘friend’.
Knowing you would forgive her,
You’ll love her till the bitter end.

And how would I know all this, love?
I am her, I know I’ll do all of the above.