Upstairs in your room, where I watched you clean your spoon; that needle in your arm was a knife in my heart that got twisted a little harder every time you pushed it farther until it pushed me far enough that I could turn and walk away. And now today. A decade and 90 miles away from the choice you made between me and your fascination with a fix. Too many years and an ocean of tears away from the lesson that I couldn’t heal you with a kiss. The words that I told you then; “It’s over. You can call me when you’re sober.” And just walking away bled my tears. And days lead to months became years. I let go of the hope that I’d hear “I’m clean”. And I let my white-knight-knuckled fingers let loose my home-coming beauty queen. The only ever woman for me. Edged out to the periphery, of you I wouldn’t speak. Just a slow leak from my bleeding heart tucked beneath one sleeve. And then-came those words-over facebook–absurd! But I heard your voice in every key: “Kila, I’m finally clean”. And my heart strong sung out in joy! You had finally made the right choice. And with open arms and trepidus heart, I hopefully let you back in. But this time, only as friends. Kept an arms breadth of distance at length. Prayed to the hope of your strength. To keep the needle at bay, and keep our friendship this way, and mended, that way it did stay… That is, until early today. And that familiar old choice now is facing me. And I’m pacing my heart speeding racingly. And I’m cursing those demons you have raised in me. And I question my strength; is there space in me? To be some kind of heroine, and fight against your Heroin. Can I bear with it? Can I carry it? Have my arms and my heart grown in size? Yet again I have let you inside… And I find, to surprise, that the scars from your knife-cold needle-have left me quite tough. And that strengthening just might be enough. To carry us both, over fiery coals, to the side where it’s you that you love.
The death of night is light, they say
The gentle birthing of the rising day
A tapestry of which the edge is frayed,
Just pull loose threads and it comes away
Then each thread again, through loom is played
And weaves in time, without delay
The prayer to grant this light a stay
But the hang-man comes, and night kills day
Edited a little phrasing on this piece. Didn’t quite like the flow of the last two lines. The meter was off & it ruined the effect of continuous flow (which it needed, since it’s about TIME).
Fear is just a luxury I can ill-afford to feed
For well-fed fear is never full; it sucks you down with greed
And greedy guzzled, gluts itself on parts of you you need
Then plants itself into your brain, sending hope to fallow seed
Being angry has left me too weary
Being frightened has left me too cold
Pain’s anxiously left me too broken
To feel anything other than old
And worn through the skin I’ve been feeling
My soul’s been exposed to the air
A rawness that’s chaffed my heart bleeding
And left me too worried to care
But I’ve worried myself til I’ve worn through
And exposed through the holes just a thought
With all this emotion that I’ve torn through
Hope is still one that I’ve got
You don’t have to walk a mile in my shoes
To see the souls are wearing thin
And you don’t have hear the bad news
To see the mess I’m standing in
And you don’t have to hold a hand out-
I can take to feet alone
And don’t ask me what I cry about
Cause the pain I feel’s my own
Some things are better left unshared
And others are best unsaid
And I’d rather, in truth, you were unaware
Of the scream inside my head.
What you don’t know won’t hurt me
At least, it won’t hurt my pride.
So I’ll just keep all the worst of me
Quietly hidden inside.
Tight petals curled, and furled within themselves;
Soon delved into deeper summer swells.
And honey-sweet the thickness, above the fragrant bells;
Scent tells the song of summer sun and drunken Bee-stungs tales.
My heart itself, is ripped in half
Like a book been torn in two
And the pages that have scattered round
Are the ones I leave to you
Like the petals which have fallen
From a rose too early bloomed
Autumn gloom has come to pass
And summer ends too soon.