Have you ever noticed the way carrots feel
when you leave them out of the fridge for too long?
Rubbery and kinda textured,
a lot like a freshly dismembered finger
before it starts to rot.
Sunday, 28 February 2010
the hole in my heart
a little worm, inside my chest
gnaws away, after you say
i love you
he nibbles and nips,
and chips away
until i wonder if you really mean what you say
or if you won't change your mind in the next moment
so, i know you get tired of saying it
but please realise each time it gets eaten a bit
so i'm always low on i love you
gnaws away, after you say
i love you
he nibbles and nips,
and chips away
until i wonder if you really mean what you say
or if you won't change your mind in the next moment
so, i know you get tired of saying it
but please realise each time it gets eaten a bit
so i'm always low on i love you
Saturday, 27 February 2010
Wallflower
I remember what it was like
to be the one that turned everyone's heads
To be watched, and have my hair stroked
and told how lovely and thick and golden it is.
Old men, with a sharp intake of breath, wished they were 20 or 30 years younger.
Now, I fade,
My black dress clings too tightly
My mousey brown locks are wound tightly onto my head, to keep the wind from blowing my hair into my lipgloss.
People notice I'm there when I add something to the conversation
and they look up, surprised that I've been there all along.
It used to be me that started conversations.
I know I'm not the same me that I was on the outside,
but where has the me on the inside gone?
to be the one that turned everyone's heads
To be watched, and have my hair stroked
and told how lovely and thick and golden it is.
Old men, with a sharp intake of breath, wished they were 20 or 30 years younger.
Now, I fade,
My black dress clings too tightly
My mousey brown locks are wound tightly onto my head, to keep the wind from blowing my hair into my lipgloss.
People notice I'm there when I add something to the conversation
and they look up, surprised that I've been there all along.
It used to be me that started conversations.
I know I'm not the same me that I was on the outside,
but where has the me on the inside gone?
Friday, 26 February 2010
This empty house remembers you
The heat is trapped inside here,
from before you left.
My tearstains scar your pillow still.
You are gone; though not for long,
but I am still here trying to make sense of my bubbling feelings
with words
While I picture you, flying away, and forgetting all about this.
from before you left.
My tearstains scar your pillow still.
You are gone; though not for long,
but I am still here trying to make sense of my bubbling feelings
with words
While I picture you, flying away, and forgetting all about this.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)