Oh you victim,
‘You pushed me away!’
Oh you poor victim –
what did the world owe you?
Because this world won’t care until death,
and who recognises we’re all just people, nothing more and nothing less.
Wrapped up in the emotional debts of old karmic cycles,
what did I owe you?
And if it all amount to nothing, just the black abyss of a subpar existence, revolving around your claim to want me, to care for me, to see me somehow.
This isn’t a love poem, who cares for the old scaring love,
this is a poem for when you give for your family –
and they abandon you.
And then you wonder.
Who really wanted to know.
And who really cared.
When friends become foes,
and the world scoffs when you scream its not fair.
And who wanted to take their own life,
to guarantee the survival of mine.
And who really cared about the struggle,
who really cared about the loss,
who really cared about the brutal, testing cost.
And who just wants one thing,
and who wants everything.
And who will give something,
in return of nothing.
And who judges you day and night,
and who puts you in that ruthless box.
And who sits back in pain,
when you soul begins to rot.
And who kept their word,
and who broke you down.
And who is still around –
who is still around?
I run my fingertips across
makes my flesh pads expand
In the heat of summer
you read me poems
sweat between creases
and palms wiping foreheads –
you read me poems
I lay against your sound
tonation floats up and down
keep reading until
Lap up sweat, tear, saliva
Oh, and the baggage too
Vitality through spilling of secrets, lost
Evolution? Closer than before.
My eyes ran across your cheeks
And then sprinted to your lips
Round your beard and up to your nose,
Rolling onto the curves your brows
A moments’ pause at this point –
Knowing I’d be sweetly looking into your eyes.
Excited and zealous and gleeful like a kid
Chasing along the skin to arrive at my favourite part,
Here, into those eyes, I dive, heart pounding and complete submission, to never come up from submerging.