Why do all the right words
Feel so wrong between my teeth
But when you take the pen from me
The paper softly speaks
Why does everything in this house
Break under my feet
But when you run around at night
The floorboards barely creak
And the tick tock of the clocks is all
I hear over the haunting thought
That I have so many ghosts and baby
you have met them all
I’ll exercise the right to exorcise my demons
And you can call the priest and tell him
I have really lost my mind
Breaking every window
In the home that I built
From my bones
And every brick is laced with spit
From faces that I barely know
But If I could show you every piece
of art that is inspired by you
You would know that when the walls talk
They only ever speak of you.
So I’ll watch your life in pictures
Like I used to watch you sleep
And I’ll feel you forget me
Like I used to feel you breathe
And I keep up with our old friends
Just to ask them how you are
I hope that its nice there,
Wherever you both are
“We could run away, you and I, into the mountains,” she says. And it’s such a beautiful thought that I allow myself to believe, just for a minute, that we could survive in the snow, with the bears and wolves.
“We could steal a boat,” she laughs, and it’s so ridiculous that I join in.
“We could wave at the dolphins and the whales as they pass by, and wake up to the kind of filling silence I know you like.”
“We could travel the world,” she whispers, just as I’m falling asleep. “I’ll take you to Paris or Bermuda or Rome or Crete. The water tastes different there, like berries, it’s sweet.
She kisses me gently on the top of my head,
“And you’d like the sky there, in these places, I bet.”
She is standing at a junction when you see her. Her head bounces along to a song you can’t hear and you wonder what songs she sings in the shower these days. She used to joke that singing wasn’t her strong point, but you loved her Sunday night humming against your head, her smile against your mouth, your fingers curled in her dress.
Her eyes open a little wider when she sees you and then she smiles and gives you a wave. There isn’t much time for talking as you walk past each other and the green man begins to flash. You think her hair looks different, not so much the colour or style, but the way it frames her face. She doesn’t look so girlish when she says hey, and offers you a grin. And when she walks past you, you can’t help but turn back and watch. You wonder who listens to her talk about the stars at night, or who carries her home when she’s drunk.
Three years ago she said she loved you, and today you almost say it back.
I’d never cared much for strawberries, but that summer her lips were stained so red that they were all I tasted.
And I’d never had a favourite fruit, but two years on, a new girl sits in front of me, laughing at my jokes.
“If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?” She asks playfully.
And I remembered how her hands traced the veins in my neck and made their way across my chest. I remembered her soft breathing and arms draped around my shoulders.
“Strawberries.” I told her. “I could live a life on nothing but strawberries.”
As I recall, your eyes were a pretty shade of blue,
Not as deep as the ocean, but deeper than you
As I recall, your voice was like my favourite song,
Not a melody to most, but a treasure to all
As I recall, your hands shook when we kissed
Not out of fear, or of nerve, but out of pure, untamed bliss
As I recall, you loved me, and I loved you too
But I recall no happy memories of my time with you.
There is a thunderstorm where your ribs were once cracked
Where I snapped them like wishbones to take out your heart
There’s a tsunami in your veins, flooding out from your eyes
Did you crush your own heart, dear, to feel less alive
There’s an ache in your stomach, you spit out bones and wings
Force it back down your throat, dear, get back down on your knees
Did you break all your fingers, the day you touched him?
That should teach you, little girl,
Not to play games with me.
I had seen the insides of monsters, as if they were not men.
My skin was always cold, and I was desperate, even then,
to fill myself with as much liquor and spite as I could fit
Inside my broken rib cage, where these mindless secrets sit
You had met the inside of mad man’s mouth, his lips were the rat trap, and you were the mouse
You had seen the inside, of hell as we know
You will escape with no soul, no bones and no home.
But the saddest thing is you were taught love
As if it was nothing but a swear word,
And I learned love was just not feeling anything at all
You may think I’ve crossed the line
But the sad truth is
I’ve lost my mind
What am I really?
A whisper in your ear
Brittle bones and a bitter tongue
There’s not much left to lose here
But what am I really?
A thorn in your side
An anchor on the shore
Keeping you safe from the tide
But who am I now?
A soul with no bones
Falling apart in your hands
But I guess you didn’t know
But what will I be?
A saviour for your mind
Or your body?
My fingerprints will not cover you until you let me
And what was I then?
A lie, or your lover
You don’t want me
Your mind strays to another
What did I want?
When I grew up, I had plans
I wanted to be better, and hold the whole world in my hands
But what am I really?
After this whole pointless thing,
I’m not a poet
Or a writer, or even your missing piece
I just talk, until there can be nothing left to say
But if I’m lying
It’s not so far from what I meant
I’m lonely, but never really alone
Maybe I’m already all I can be, after all.
I’ve finished too many whiskey bottles
Hoping I’d find you at the bottom
I left you bound and buried
But never quite forgotten
You’ve been on my mind again
I guess some things never change
I’ve woken every day since then
With nothing on my lips but your name
I wonder why only whispers come out
Around you, whenever I open my mouth
Maybe I’m still afraid
Of what truths I might let out