Saturday, 19 December 2015

If you don't have a heart , can you ever find home ?

My lips are stained with yesterday's sins and my mind winds itself around these unread tracks , the words I've counted on fingers, and remained forever unsaid, I've let her slip through yet again and I've only to wonder if this sort of callousness is but consistent with my nature , the one I'm battling with every breath , I am forever between a prayer and a sin.
But I've called up this number, is it still yours, I'm in town again and I cannot help but remember how the summer air tasted when you breathed in it and do you want to see me ever again?

I've carved company in coffee shops between pages and crumpled receipts,  in airport lounges and between bus stations, shutting my eyes in traffic jams and counting down days to a travel date as I move between my family and heart with a war torn soul. I can feel the earth moving beneath my feet and time stealing everything everything everything from this inconsistency I have chosen to fashion into a life.

We don't get to choose our battles, we only get to pick the armour we fight them in.

But you invoke an emptiness in me I wouldn't have known but for you and now it's too late for you to leave and too painful for you to stay and he falls silent I'm a mess and they say I'm the sane one but if you'd looked closer I'd stopped counting down the days to travel dates and starting counting down the days to death instead, baby I'm made of firewood and you've lit the match , a burning desire for intense self destruction and here I am scheduling the date I will bury  my head  under the water after I've stained the bathroom tiles red with the blood from my throat, why didn't you leave , why didn't you stay , I guess it's too late either way but when you see that I've finally forgotten how to stay sane , please don't patronise me by saying you still care.

Thursday, 17 December 2015


We fell into temptations under the starlit skies , I loved the streets in this place and how the black tar shone back at you when you were dreaming of leaving and swearing you'd make it big in the big city,who would've thought 2 am in the Cold you'd be wrapping your fingers around your mug and trying to find the taste of home in tea leaves but nothing felt right if you couldn't hear your dad breathe in the next room and maybe next time we won't be so eager to run away when we had it so good and we were too caught up in June to realise the year was gone and we were still canvassing the skies for meaning , and trying to convince that being unable to see the stars back home was reason enough to leave . Tracing our steps back because time never let us off easy , and maybe we were fools to run away when we were only ever running towards fate, we were too busy impaling our futures against the plans our parents had for us and comparing our life plans to others to ever be grateful for the sun and and blue sky we lived under which wasn't obliterated by smoke from bombs and ashes of destruction and we were far to absorbed in comparing our shoes and trinkets to the kids next door and we forgot to say thank you dear god in heaven that my family is alive and safe and home isn't just a memory ,it's a place and it is so very untouched and safe.

Monday, 14 December 2015

Barbiturates and bravery

I do not understand the metal men with painted arms whose pictures she likes to display , I do not understand why my heart loses track of time and my breath catches when her name is mentioned , I envy the thickness of her hair while reminding myself that I am not just my deficiencies wrapped up in black and there is so much more to the depths of this sky than the stars that take up their places too brightly too unmoving and resistant, I do not understand my need to apologise , I do not understand why I think this will survive , why I like to believe I will survive this and the sadness in the universe won't just consume me whole in a bottle of barbiturates , in a deliberate carelessness , in a wish for escape on stars that were dead . I cannot understand why my hands shiver when I reach for the bottle after everything I've had to apologise for and a while longer wasn't nearly short enough for this soul , atleast not in this world and I will breathe the last exhale of resigned release,  I'll fall softly to this marble floor , it will caress the limp hands I used to count blessings with in its cool embrace and it will reflect the blood that drains out of eyes that were too tired to fight back and too tired to live and maybe survival was never about how easily we lived , maybe it was about how happily we welcomed leaving life behind .

Do not make homes out of people who cut the life out of you with words like razor blades , do not make homes out of memories , do not make home out of out of photographs , do not mistake pain for honesty , and do not think that everyone who wears his heart on his sleeve is going to treat you like you're priceless, do not mistake scars for bravery , do not make the mistake of believing people are capable of saving themselves let alone saving you from the emptiness of your soul .

Wednesday, 9 December 2015

Trembling behind smokescreens

Please still stay in the middle of night when my skin is broken open to reveal craters deeper than on the moon and my ribs have cracked and scars are spilling out from under the seams and you find me choking on the acid from her mouth and I'm filled with  either words or tears and I can make sense of neither; please still be there when the sky refuses to be blue and sucks everything into the depths of its blackness, when the world is clawing at me for all its worth to try to get me to give up when the scars aren't just marks but memories branded and burnt into the skin of time , time that never healed and never lets  me forget , please still be there when the last laugh has died and turned into the ghosts  of sobs that no one ever heard except the emptiness of the world you left to when your heart stopped  because your lungs refused air , please still be there when I am a shadow of myself,  I have watched her love a grave instead of a person , when the stench of disinfectant and desperation hit her like a slap in the face in the cold  white hospital corridor, the only words she would remember were "it's too late,it's too late, it's too late."