watching your life crash
the waves towards the shore
going through the motions
a diminishing lust to live
a world full of shadows
a wound that never heals
watching your life crash
i resigned a long time ago
i resigned from the weak
i resigned for the freedom
only to realise thy suffering would not flee
to and fro that garden have i walked
never far did i stray the olive tree
oh the noose that is hanging
is the home where i dream
thy fere oft i have known thee
let us share in thine holy agony
carry me out to sea and we’ll float amongst the crashing waves
wash away our sins and wave goodbye to all our friends
take me out to see and we’ll bask in the golden sun
expose all our secrets and blind ourselves once more
show me your hands of creation and we’ll carve worlds that do not yet exist
we’ll find spring in the winters and lay in beds of reeds
we’ll paint all our reveries and comfort our miseries
we’ll read plath and indulge in virginia
we’ll toast our drinks to the foolish pursuits
i daydream on thoughts of you, of us, sitting together on a park bench in the sun laughing, talking, and we’re happy. we’re happy and we still smile.
you see, you’re the first person i’ve ever trusted. you’re the first to make me feel something good and real. something completely nourishing. without you in my life i would have struggled to make it past those years, so much so, that i’ve now immortalised you as a saint.
i forget all the little things that made our time together.
i forget i don’t belong anymore. that i can’t exist.
i forget that you’ve moved on.
i find myself, on some days aimless and lost in the nostalgia you bring.
all the fights, all the embraces, all the memories we’ve built.
there was that garden and we cared for it so well.
then you left. you left and i let it die.
i couldn’t stand to enter the yard, to enter the back of my mind, when you weren’t there anymore.
flashing lights, emergency stop. i hit the steering wheel and broke down.
i lost track of all those nights and the days became ambiguous.
i’d wake up, but you would never come back.
i took hold of her hand and guided it towards my breast and slowly pulled down the straps of her singlet as if to unwrap her and savour every moment. she did the same to mine and we remained on the bed, feeling each others’ beauty, now exposed. our lips only met once. our trembling hands and hearts met. we reached down further until we felt the soft, warm welcoming.
you have this unique ability to make me feel so incredibly happy.
you can also make me fall and spiral down just as fast.
with you i feel like i have to be on guard constantly including, but not limited to, my emotions.
i feel like i can’t express how i feel about you. i feel like everything i do is not returned. i feel like i try and be as supportive of you as i can and i offer the best of myself to you.
i feel like it’s never enough and everything i give, you consume so lifelessly.
a lot more is said indirectly than directly. it’s all the little things; the actions, the unspoken words, the limited gestures or hesitation, the non-physical distance, that say so much more.
you didn’t ask me to fall for you, to fall in love.
i never asked for this too. i never thought someone could make me feel this way again, except you didn’t make me feel this.
i did this to myself.
seven years ago i remember seeing you for the first time
you walked confidently in a long coat
i remember your eyes, your dimples
i remember the same overwhelming feeling
i remember staying up all night for the first time
talking about our thoughts, life and dreams
i fell in love with you then
i see rainbows and fragmented pasts they live in me, locked up, carcinogenic and haunted
a child who felt nothing except frustration around the presence of a man who could not help, but to look. it was too innocent, that it seemed to not be an issue of concern. any eyes would have dismissed such glances as regular behaviour. perhaps it was. however, the frustration was still unanswered for.
it was this frustration that deepened and incidents that could be justified as harmless accumulated.
that day the children were in high spirits and into the mill bush, they were led.
turning around, they then dropped their clothes, responding to the orders and waiting for the click of the flash.
the child didn’t want too, but had little comprehension of autonomy. it tried to fight the fear, but only knew how to subject. the child followed through.
snap. snap. snap.
the child was treated like a child, not to be made aware of the psychological implications of such events. no understanding gained, only increasing curiousity and guilt.
what was left, was a tangled, delicate weave that required sure and sensitive hands.
what was left, was a child who knew only how to subject, who was sheltered and unaware of how to gauge the intentions of man.
what was left, was a child with naive eyes, who would come when called, who would be dictated what to do, how to think and a child who would lie down when told.
it was told it wouldn’t hurt, but that pain persisted.
it was stripped, bruised and broken down and believed, those same false sentiments that it had painfully swallowed, it was going to be okay. it was forced to live in shame, to alienate itself from the external and to create a romantic delusion.
the guilt, the shame and the frustration remained.
the child knew it was those eyes that had seen and kept watch. the child knew it was the mans sick mind that had sexualised her.
the child never knew the mother would object to such truth.
the child became victimised by its very own traumatic experiences and had not since been able to trust its own frame of reality, overcome with anxiety and self doubt.
this was a child who became to know fear and the black of death.
this was a child who later knew the depths of hell.
what would have anna said?