Thursday, 18 December 2014


You were the weaver of words
I was the fountain of pain
We spent all our days drinking coffee that was too sweet
And words that were too bitter

The space between us closed with words we hurled like slurs and fists that moved so fast they blurred
You carried the sea in your eyes
It carried you whole
I carried my grief like the wind chimes carried the wind
You were once the reason for the fault in my faith
The line marking my failed attempts
You were in every unnoticed  detail
The inkstains on imperfect pages
the reason for the bruises on my face
The blood underneath my fingernails
You were the battle. And I never won.
You were the storm raging inside
Blowing these castles I built on thin air
I never won
But neither did you.