A Distant Space

There’s a painting on my wall of an old house, a windmill and a steady sea – the sky’s the deepest grey (the deepest grey). When I’m most alone, I can see a boy, standing at the window – so afraid, so afraid. Waiting for the tide to wash the stains away. Waiting for the fish to bite the broken. Waiting for the loss to carve him open. It’s a coastal place, a distant space, a scene I can’t replace, nor would I want to; where else could I find you? The sand is stained, the air is laced; a time I can’t erase, nor would I want to – where else would I find you? When the time is right, they’ll find you.

Burning Church Beside A Lake

Through the trees, there’s a burning church beside a lake of ice – thawing with the heat. The flames lick the night – as I’m drawn closer, I start to hear a priest going down with his ship.

“Please lord, spare me. Please lord, prepare me. I’ve been a servant all my life – slept lonely every night, just to serve you – now in my hour of need, you leave me; doubting your compassion on my deathbed.”

Then he’s silent – I’m thankful he’s silent. Then the flames fade, then the night draws in. Then I kneel by the lake, and wash my hands of this mess.

Sleep; Landscape

Hold my body underwater, wait until my breathing stops – count to 20 in your head then kill a cat to wake me up. Document the first word that I speak, ask what I want then record my response. Make a note of the first thing that I ask, then when I’m lucid ask me what I meant. Shove my head back underwater; watch me writhe and gasp for air – focus on the frighten in my eyes and watch it turn into a glassy stare. Make a mental note of how you’re feeling, with me laying lifeless on the bathroom floor. Shake my shoulders, slap my face, breathe deep – resuscitate, ask me “where did you go?” ask me “what’s it all for?”

What’s it all for? Is there any point at all? Is there really a god?

Written, Reside

I’m here, where you left me – you know where to find me.

The sound the waves make, as the waves break, on the sand. The sound your lips make, as they close, around my mouth. The sound of sirens pierce the silence of the night. The sound of thunder – like an air raid, in the sky.

Stomach

If I should die alone, at least I know that I once knew what love was – it was sad to see it go, but half the world have never even felt it. What if we’d never met? Would I even know that love hurts in the stomach? What if we’d never met? Would I crave to taste as much as I have tasted?

Blisters

Is it obvious what I’ve been dreaming of? Sleep with the sunrise, wake in the dark. Cut gums from sucking broken glass, grazed knees from praying. You were where I saw myself. Is there anything left for me to love? Sleep through the daytime, dream of the past. Torn heart and blisters in the gut – still find me praying. You were where I saw myself.

Lillies

I gave her lillies for the death of her love – she gave me guidance, in accordance with the stars. I gave more lillies for the death of her dog – she gave directions in the night. I got to using all the things she’d taught me, to teach my friends the way to a heart. I got to teaching, all the things I’d learnt – she got to learning my mistrust, and now we’re dust. I wrote her letters, from a darkened room – she read the letters by the light of the moon. I wrote about a woman I once knew; she sat there reading of her past. Now we’re dust.

Cause Relieve

I stretch to the cold side of the bed – where are you now? Hypnotised by ceiling gazing; replaying the day in my head. I’m only brave when I’m laying here – running through what I’d say to you. I’m only brave when I’m laying here – running through what I’d do to you. The shadows creep around the room – the moonlight (like a torch) seeks me out. The minutes move – the neighbours clock makes ripples in the water.