Stories get smothered by pain. No matter which tale, You are ready to tell, There’s a hurt that can dissolve it. A strike of agony waiting to chime, An ache under unwritten cursive. Songs choked on a migraine stone, And … Continue reading
You would have loved me back then,
Everyone did.
When I had missed the lesson about moderation,
Brazen and capricious
Fiery and fearless,
Back when consciousness meant nothing to me.
You would have hated me back then
Everyone did.
When I had missed the lesson about toleration,
Selfish and vicious,
Arrogant and heartless,
Back when consequence meant nothing to me.
You would have seen me back then,
Everyone did.
When I had skipped the lecture about subjugation,
Bold and seditious
Bright and shameless,
Back when dignity meant less than nothing to me.
Those days where I knew what I was,
Something dangerous and powerful and dying,
Bound up in pvc and absinthe,
Doling out kisses and lies,
The clock was ticking.
No-one could hurt me.
I had nothing to lose.
And then the countdown stopped.
The luminance of risk burnt itself out,
And left me hollow and raw,
But alive.
You might pity me now,
Everyone does,
Now I’m learning the trick of bifurcation,
Weak and suspicious,
Lost and faceless,
Now that balance means everything to me.
The lessons I refused to learn,
Teaching lessons of their own.
And in the graceless fevers that I wrought,
in search of an escape I still crave,
Are still remnants of my ragged psyche waiting for me to collect them.
(c) Accidental Tentacles 2016
Rosaceae are on the move again.
Curling thorns blotting out the sun,
Casting shadows over
the shadows I no longer want to see.
Leaving only moonlight to bathe in.
Gauzy hues and iridescence
where the gaudy and asinine used to lay.
A history reconstructed.
Shading in emotions were there were none.
I seem only to remember us
twisted together in those thorns,
Delicate and tessellated.
Morphing into something we never were
and could never be.
If things had really felt that way,
I never would have left
I never would have fallen asleep.
In my dream, when you said your wife
would love this song,
A part of me withered.
The stillborn fantasy that only awakens in my sleep.
Part of me yearning for something
in the memory of your face that wasn’t you.
Awaking with an overwhelming sensation of loss.
Eyes wide open
And incandescence burns off the thorns,
Leaving a truth bare and brutal
That I won’t mourn.
Don’t give me roses, Love
They will only contaminate my other world.
(c) Accidental Tentacles 2016
Accidental Tentacles 