Lost compass, sliding off a map.
The ends of the world, as the world ends.
Jettisoning everything of surplus.
Keeping only what is sacred.
What is precious.
I leave a trail, across the sky like a distant dream.
Exploded into nothing, vanished as the night rolls over.
Yet locked in the DNA that rains down.
Are memories and fragments of this soul.
Particles of god and echoes of love.
Like you I am no longer.
And without you, I am nothing once more.
The memories had settled, like a layer of dust.
The sediment of life.
All quiet, only snow making a descent to disturb the spirit.
Time washing their feet.
Soaking it in like a golden virus.
Lining the lungs with platinum.
So easy to remain unmoved.
To close the eyes and drift away.
For the birds to lift the life out through the window.
But it was there still.
The pebble in the mind.
The needle in the side.
A notion of incomplete.
A spot of milk on the sideboard of the soul.
The eyelids flutter dustily.
The mouth parts slowly like the red sea.
A miracle come in to being, of a body that moves with hope.
Of a yearning to do, what it still does not know.
Lifting out of the dream.
To do what it was put here to do.
A completion, before it moves on.
And knows what it does not yet know.
That endless world they talk of.
A Drowned world.
It opened in my heart when the starry waves washed inside.
When you looked at me.
With that light of god in your eyes.
And in that moment, like that pebble in your hand.
You grasped at the infinite.
You consumed my soul.
And we would remain forever bound.
Like that pebble in the ferocious stream.
Washed endlessly by the cosmic current.
Until clean.
Never ready, aching like a muscle in the heat.
Tired and silent, hoping for it to pass on by.
To float through like dreams of change.
Holding my breath.
Catching my heart.
It always comes, they always do.
Those feelings of love that split my cells.
Love. Love. Love.
Even when solitary sense surrounds.
It doubles down.
Attacking where I’m weakest.
You know how to make me feel.
Punching the darkness out of me.
Leaving halos around my heart.
You come on with your disease.
Spreading like an immunity that I will never possess.
Tasting the trauma of before, I hesitate to move.
Watching while the soul dances the dance.
Bones that break with ease, cannot protect a heart that bleeds.
For you, seep on through.
Forcing me to love you once more.
A Comforting collapse.
That extreme degree of falling.
So enticing, heart is stalling.
As loose recollections of perhaps;
that I always was the king of pain.
Knowing it would always come again.
I’ll wear my own destructive crown.
Situation familiar. Characteristic breakdown.
When the universe rests, and slumbers in my mind.
And all around me is still.
I take this chance to apologise.
For who I have become. For who I wanted to be.
An apology for me.
Within these cracks and slithers of my soul.
That remain unfettered to moral decay.
I brush the hurt away.
And send myself flowers.
Hoping to turn over those leaves, and find you there.
How to fathom the meddlesome mind.
Which wages such war with one’s heart.
That so if left, to the crumbling of time.
A lion on a tiger, ripping the fur and soul apart.
The after-burn of lust sees your soul coil around me.
Tunnelling my desperate thoughts up into the sky.
It is a beautiful flowered prison that I daren’t shake free.
A circled decision giving me reasons not to cry.
These trailing stars that shatter through our existence.
Leave chaos and beauty in their wake.
Transcended diamonds embedded in our skin.
Fires burning deep within.
What golden light are we trapped beneath.
Such hazel eyes of god.
My soul is a blackness wrapped around your galaxy.
As you pass through like a luminous shooting star.
Leaving varying traces of your continuance.
Vibrating this space with only departure and grace.
Caring not for the planets that fall.
A pain so dark it blots out the stars.
Rubbing the divine into charcoal.
Left shaking in the wake of skeleton waves.
That snatch my voice into the sea of the selfish.
Loss drips across like oil.
And the reality paralyses.
A bloom of love is choked by the frost of departure.
And my soul is snatched by the shadows of indifference.
The place inside, maybe heaven, beckons.
The mind a hell, at fates unknown.
I feel no pain. I feel nothing.
An uncomfortable numbness itching in my bones.
How your lips bring about such devastation.
Apathaites my heart and bubbles my blood.
Oh the sweet bends that rush, twisting my insides out.
You are the opium for my soul.
The novocaine for my conscience.
Which constantly waivers into unstable territory.
You keep my ghost steady as I walk this earth.
Getting high from the lows you put me under.
Feeling flight as you watch me crawl.
Love, such a compromise anyway.
There were stories of course.
Bad childhoods and frequent trauma.
Violence was like the rain, blown in like a storm.
But she did not live in the past too much.
Her story was colliding forever into tomorrow.
Wiping off the fever that electrified each night.
She had been beaten and adorned.
Wrapped both pearls and handcuffs around her arms.
Flesh was to be devoured.
Ghastly and exciting, making a mess in her soul.
She wiped away the blood drool.
What lay between her lips, her soul, her hips.
Was given by her own decision.
A consensual bargaining, for being alive.
For being a creature so prone to movement.
The survival of the imagination.
Her look that cuts the room.
The heart pierced by gloom.
Made her a provocateur for a classless age.
You would smell her on your sheets.
Crave the wet drip that smouldered still on your tongue.
But she would be gone.
Side stepping a fall from a grace she named herself.
Wearing her own crown, made of tinfoil and treasure.
But it will not always be that way.
The legs that part make way for opportunity.
Which always finds its mark, awash with indecision.
She was the girl that left too soon.
She was the guy who bought the moon.
And sold stars instead.
He is not one to remember fondly, his past indiscretions.
But shame had no place in his beautiful heart.
And his story starts, not with a departure.
But a glorious homecoming.
I do not need this, she said.
Shaking the thoughts and dark from her head.
I need so much more.
The need to want you, is greater than before.
And the flicker, and the twitter of the voices in her skull.
Kept her moving, her heart bruising.
Keeps her soul crawling on the floor.
Underneath where the soul lingers.
Light scrapes away all hurt and pain.
And in its place, by gentle fingers.
The ghost of me tries to reframe.
A version of me you will remember.
For underneath you feel the same.
Deep within, you try to touch me.
Pushing aside all the tinsel and tarnish.
A wipe of a tear, and a telescope in.
Putting your hand on my skin.
Forcing me to crack, to burst wide open.
Making way for the river of brutal buried emotion.
The wind that howls, is the one that kills.
Blowing through these bones, coming down the hills.
Picking up like the devil’s breath.
It runs amok and hurries my death.
For though I’m not fragile as a slanted tree.
Or small, or weak and feathery.
The wind that howls is beyond my control.
It fans your flames that are burning my soul.
Havoc and Consequence 