I am the epitome
of a tired heart –
filled like a teenage lover’s gift
with painstakingly filled stars,
from a once upon a time.
each star burns with memory
that was captured and cannot
ever be reincarnated.
my crucified faith has been executed
and shot down one time too many,
in boys that have commuted
through my doe eyes and out of my life.
there were many who chased for trophy’s sake,
while others thought they understand
when they really didn’t at all.
one.
I feel safe in your big hands & rich laughter,
blush and fumble with my bag.
sometimes, my words don’t tumble out,
and I wonder if you hear them
or if its even possible for you to know me at all.
I don’t know if I’m letting this die.
maybe.
I’ve wondered how it would be like to fall with thee.
I bet it’s easy to let me go.
or maybe you never held me at all.
two.
the one by my side, thou art most high!
a forever-and-ever sort of understanding
has linked you to me.
we are painted by funny wit,
you hear the things I don’t say.
three.
I once thought we were black & white,
silver & gold, the same overachievers.
till I realised that we could not be further
apart than Mercury and Pluto, two planet pals.
now Pluto isn’t even a planet anymore,
and in you there is no longer companionship.
the picture has faded beyond recognition.
four.
the one I sacrificed the most for,
and got the same amount of sacrifice in return.
you spoilt me, teased me, made me woman.
things will never be the same,
but you protected me
and were my other half for an epoch.
the sky is pulled back to reveal
that the sun has set on that love.
us is a history, nevermore.
five.
I know you play from your heart
I identify with passion.
but sometimes three
is between two & four
and that’s an odd position to be.
six.
a large macdonald’s coke in Venice,
one more could-have-been
to the history’s list.
men’s words are wanton
with the excuse
that I have breasts and periods,
and thus will never understand.
I write; my heart bleeds
the tears my eyes don’t share.
then I stop because I feel these
words ring meaningless.
indifferent ears hold strong
to their tenacious roots.
nothing I say can matter
because I am not priority.
I’m supposed to be strong
and so I don’t let you see me cry.
I am the epitome
of a tired heart –
lead to believe,
then left to fall.
this is the part
when the curtains close on me;
my alienation from the audience
before I get the chance
to curtsy & blow kisses goodbye.
__SMILE (:
|11:51 PM|