Tuesday, December 23, 2008



she is always here.
she'll never leave.
she went five days ago but she's still around.
she might come back. she might not.
i don't care either way.

i still have the
taste of her name on my tongue, the
smell of my breath in my

my skin remembers the sensation of her.

i got her under my skin. i've still got
her skin under my fingernails
her teethmarks on my shoulder
her bruises on my heart.

i can't sleep
i can sleep really but don't want to.
i'm scared that i'll wake up
and realise that she was just a dream.
worst nightmare of a wish come true,
i couldn't tell you.

but she was mine, i was hers,
we were against the world

her wild ideas and jagged humour
silver tongue, sharp teeth.

i used to joke that she had fangs
would one day suck me dry.
she tried her hardest in all the right ways.

left me gasping for air
clutching at nothing
reeling at the force of her.

beloved, begotten, beholden, begone.

i hear the sound of her bike coming up the path
the clattering beads on the spokes that make her laugh
and my teeth

she knocks on the door.

i've taken to sitting not on, but behind the settee
assuming the position normally reserved for the bailiff or jehova's witnessees.

lights on but no-one's home.

when she left i realised a lot of things.
mainly that i didn't love her. couldn't love her.
the object of my affection, my affliction, was an illusion.
the perfect mimic of her, transparent enough to reveal it was unreal.
she'd open her mouth and my image would shatter
ugly words pouring from perfect cupid bow lips.

i prefer the version in my head
the silent woman,
who wouldn't hurt a fly
let alone crush a heart.

i let her carry on knocking on the door.
it's no use.

i cannot be removed
i will not



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