when quivering lips meet
&
tongues
& whispers soothe each sigh
the ache of two vagabond souls yearning to share a few moments,
to share, to feel again,
memories and pain intermingled
seeking a peace so elusive to find …
‘it’s then
I must still my thundering heart, my love
&
close my eyes,
just hoping against reason,
that when I awake
you shall still be lying here beside me
and that you shall still
be mine
A Chipped Heart
Dreaming, my heart brittle as glass,
my solitary facade a pitiful farce,
shards tearing out of my skin,
seeking release, from cages within,
I am lost, in the dream,
bellowing out a silent scream,
torn from reality, drowning in the now,
yet I refuse,
I refuse to succumb,
I refuse to bow.
My chipped heart, may be wounded,
wreathed in pain,
still,
I believe, love, truth, belonging,
will take my hand,
again…
…
Callously discarding,
talismans of heart and soul,
hastily scorching all bridges,
in a supernova burying me whole,
retreating into emptiness,
no salvation to be found,
sins too many to absolve,
drowning, in a freshly
dug hole in the cold ground.
Hollow, empty, barren desolation closes in,
asphyxiating me,
within the walls of my dismal room,
sinking into the abyss,
disappearing, fading, lost forever,
inside an emotionless,
vacuum
…
…
Three words,
murmured in exhaled whispers,
filling infinite ears,
through numberless tongues.
Three words,
soothing, embalming, teasing, cajoling, suffocating, giggling,
spoken so much, meaning so little,
conveying dreams, hopes, life, peace,
offering solace, comfort,
bliss,
stoking fear, frustration, anger,
emptying days of meaning,
offering rickety crutches,
onto which countless emotions end up leaning.
Three words,
mumbled, gargled, spewed, spit out,
violated, battered, ripped open, casually desecrated,
crashing down upon skewered hearts,
shrinking into nothingness,
in each breath that departs.
Three words,
‘I love you’,
blaring out of empty mouths,
emblazoned on fluff,
rings on fingers, cards, flowers, puffed teddy-bears,
stuff,
hollow stuff.
Three words,
mortify me, as I scribble this verse,
rendered catatonic by fear,
revisiting the truant past,
knowing,
three words,
curled-up, wounded, gasping for air,
accepting at last,
that,
you do not care
…
…
An imprint of you remains,
mingled in the blood racing through my veins,
hewn into my flesh you stay,
a chiselled tattoo from our long-lost yesterday,
deeply branded by your entire being,
rooted to a memory incapable of fleeing,
torn, and twisting inside my skin,
the pain screeches like jangling cans of tin,
a desolate nightmare this agony feels,
with a phantom whiff of your sweet breath my soul reels,
now that you are gone, lost within a labyrinth of illusions,
your voice swarms inside my desperate delusions,
scratching, clawing layers of past moments spent with you,
you are a part of me, an unfaded, vivid tattoo,
and as my dreams of you frantically race,
I am unable to erase,
the blazing picture of your exquisite face,
so let me be, and leave me to burn in this furnace of my hell,
I should have known better,
but all that matters little,
because it was for you, that I fell.
…
Scribbled Verse 