i’ve realised not long ago how shame has filled the crevices of my life. and yesterday i let it out on you, because in all this time you hadn’t realised.
you bought me presents that i liked, you told me things i longed to hear but deep inside me there was always fear of shame. and now you’re walking streets with me, early in the morning, carrying my cargo of paper and shame. just for today. this burden in not yours nor ever will it be.
and this song’s alive in me and you can hear it, but you will never feel it the way i do.
so hold my hand in yours, my dreams scattered on your palm because i’m a dreamer and dream too much. let this free soul forsake it’s body and fly into the open sky like a red kite soaring amongst the stars.
and i want to tell you you’re closer than you were tonight,
but today we’re further apart.
i’m sorry.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged ago, alive, all, amongst, and, apart, bags, be, because, body, bought, burden, but, can, cargo, carry, closer, crevices, deep, do, dream, dreamer, dreams, early, ever, fear, feel, fill, fly, forsake, free, further, hand, have, hear, hold, how, in, inside, into, just, kite, know, last, let, life, like, long, me, morning, much, my, never, night, nor, not, now, open, out, palm, paper, prose, realise, red, resents, scattered, shame, sky, so, soar, song, sorry, soul, stars, streets, tell, than, the, there, this, time, today, told, too, walk, want, way, were, will, with, words, writing, you, yours
can you tell me, why de ja vu haunts me like a predator stalking its only surviving prey? the de ja vu, embossed with its frenchness. just like you. just like those kisses you plant on my lips, their buds opening in the middle of the darkest nights, as i wake in cold sweat, clammy hands turning on the lights to chase the demons away.
and i realise, that love is french, italian, dominican. but more than that, it’s foreign to all of us. it’s language – mysterious hum in the early-morning air, it’s lands – unbounded by borders, it’s people waking up every morning, just like the rest of us, seductive scent of coffee in their kitchens, shatter of broken cups imprinting its echo on the windows.
and when i think of love, i think of the mess that coffee would make, drops collecting, puddle spreading with every beat of the heart. my mess.
and it doesnt touch you. you’re not really here. not entirely.
and love doesn’t cut you with its broken china or stain your slippers with instant coffee, fresh those marble tiles.
does it touch you at all?
…
it’s been three months now and i’ve nothing to tell me that i’m yours, only a herbarium of those flowers you bought me the day my mother went to the zoo with my little sister in tow.
only a dead plant, in an envelope somewhere, next to Y’s unopened loveletters and the note that X kissed so that a part of him may remain with me forever, or whatever his reasoning was.
and at night, in somebody’s kitchen, in a land far away, my heartbeat keeps the coffee flowing.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged air, all, away, beat, border, bought, broken, bud, buds, can, chase, china, clammy, coffee, cold, collect, cups, cut, darkest, de ja vu, dead, demons, dominican, drop, drops, early, echo, embossed, entirely, envelope, every, far, flowers, flowing, foreign, forever, french, frenchness, fresh, hands, haunt, heart, heartbeat, herbarium, here, him, his, hum, imprint, instant, italian, just, keeps, kiss, kissed, kitchen, kitchens, land, lands, language, letters, light, lights, like, lips, little, love, make, marble, may, me, mess, middle, mither, months, morning, my, mysterious, next, night, note, nothing, now, of, only, open, out, part, people, plant, predator, prey, puddle, realise, really, reasoning, remain, rest, scent, seductive, shatter, sister, slippers, somebody, somewhere, spread, stain, stalk, survive, sweat, tell, that, think, three, tiles, touch, tow, turn, unbounded, unopened, us, wake, wake up, waking, was, went, whatever, window, with, x, y, you, yours, zoo
glittering soot on her eyelashes 