I don’t want to un-know you.
I want to know why I feel full of smiles and trains of thought
that seem to instinctively coalign with yours for miles and miles
without you looking like you think I might be a little half-mad.
I want to know why, when we meet, my muscles almost immediately feel the pang of the leaving
And with you, the rain to my bones feels almost pleasing.
And I really want to know : if not you, then who?
If not now, then when?
If not for all of this, then for what could I possibly want to want, again and again
than how much I want to know what each sigh and laugh and every shaky feeling meant.
I suppose I can learn to know you less
Leave this settled place of sentiment.
It’s just that I’d love to one day love without it costing
what I can’t seem to beget
Without all this adding up to meaning I love myself LESS
(or for the time being at least)
And all because I had spent the best of me on a dream…
meant for someone else.
This heart has a habit of falling stupidly.
Rarely, if ever, gracefully.
In places it has no right to be
and lacks the tact to put itself back together when it breaks, messily.
When all is said they will probably say she loved in vain,
Sent up her spirit with every flame,
Attached all sense to the mast in the hope of sailing past pain.
An exercise in living out the dream of belonging.
There’s a lesson to be learned from not standing where you are beside your life.
I expect some have learned this.
Expecting you have learned it all
is the biggest mistake you’re likely to make.
And then you’ll walk back into the arena
forgetting what you just ate for dinner
and you’ll eat your words like lamps by day
and say “they never mattered anyway”.
And just like that, she fell
For the thoughts she felt.
And the pain that it took
(her heart set in chains of her own making)
To ever make it free-
Told her this wouldn’t be easy.
And maybe she could see a way
but her eyes were used to seeing-
believing things that were never there.
And while she’s away from herself, the cold has set in,
falling all around her head.
And she has stood there ever since
frozen in a spot that
spoke to all she had ever loved to have loved.
With the thaw comes release-
The bended knees and the brittle sting
of regretting, almost everything.
So, I’m on Tinder. Who flippin’ isn’t by the looks of things?! Jaypers.
Anywho, it’s a peculiar space. It lies somewhere between your heart, your head and your funny bone.
Here are some musings I got out of my, well, muse.
The Irretrievable Regret*
That irretrievable regret?.. stemming from just a second of mindful neglect…
To my left and she-lies on a cloak of mystery bedecked.
And to this end who can say the whys or the wherefores of errors such as these
or where she may even be
Or was she ever to be anything more than a whole second of living memory released?
Hear the familiar tune return again
as mindlessness trickles back to the deck
and the index finger poised to rehash regret regret regret.
*Inspired by the proffering of a title from a Tinder match named John.
You looked and you liked and divulged the sight of a stranger to your minds eye
and gave a moments attention to a moments perambulation of time.
All these pictures and words then travailed to the inner/outer world of that ever falling tide
That takes all good with bad in one fell swoop
and castigates the fallen to the “still learning how to forget” curve
and rises to greet the dawn of the “maybe you?”
And ever still the moon never forgets its promise to never not shine.
So Sublime. All in it’s own sweet time.
That old sweet shop variety of choosing who wins and who loses
All adds up to a soured mood and heady thoughts flavoured with the bitter truth
And the in-between choice of maybe s/he’ll do
Skewed with the misconstrued thought of maybe they will choose you too-
That this person you don’t really see can never see the ALL of you.
After all, we’ll take the goods if given like a dangling fruit.
And none of it is wholly fully bad or ever full of good
But Just waiting to be tasted by the whole of you.
So be tender of foot when you get what’s tendered out to you.
The simplest swipe..
Can Turn a simple direction into a fatal knife-
A heart shaped box or a weighted cross-
An axis or access to the within and without of these very shapes we’d shiftily make
And all concealing the self; sitting pretty on a dusty shelf.
Here/There/Been/Done with and maybe could do with-out.
This is the tale you may tell yourself when you’re all tinder-ed out.
You looked like you would of have expected sunbeams and hugs and love and babies.
You would of have thought me to be thoughtful and kind….most of the time.
I’d be thinking you really should know better!
What makes you think I look like I could be and give all that, being what I am….
Similar to you….22? Right?
Okay, so I lied but I never set this up to imply I was perfect or just made-for-you.
So I’m going to have to swipe that pretty smile right…and by right I mean left…off your face
And because you’ll never even know all of this…Grace…
this is goodbye.
So, I like to write poetry. Yes, I do. So here’s one I wrote earlier.
All This I am
I am the type that wants it all. Now. Here and now
On this floor, on yours-
Wherever you are and without pause.
That’s how much I want it and you.
To feel flesh meeting the flesh
and the angled and the soft edges of your mood
These bodies entangled so tight they’d merge into one whole world.
Stopping short out of fear…only just.
I want to get ever closer to you so as to feel even closer to me
I want to kiss all the divine places in you into pure existence in my minds eye
and wade further and further into the mystery of you and I.
And when I can’t go any further I’d like to just be where you are
and sit as witness to this crossing of two majestic ships tethered to the self-same sea.
I am the type that would do all of this, if you only could.
Love Ru! x