In a state of disrepair
Clutching onto old clothes
You left to be burned
To be dispossessed from memory.
Alcoholic taste in my swollen mouth
My tongue quivers at the next drop
It burns, and burns until my eyes water
Until my fists clench and my liver screams for dear mercy.
The approach to this pain
Is to drink more
To collide with enemies when they’re not even there
They’re in my thoughts
Melting into my brain.
Stricken by ghosts on the TV set
Fear comes to me down my arm like the signs of a heart attack
They’re flying around the overflowing ashtray
Nipping at my resolve, carrying banners,
That say ‘’you’re dead to me too’’
And these old clothes may need to be burned
So I can return to a state of normality
So this room can breathe again
With your spirit dead then I can try to open doors
To an outside world brimming in chaos and beauty.
Has the world turned from vibrant colours to a sorry blend of grey?
In these times
Politics don’t matter
Hearts marbled in grace do.
Tired and broken
We roam disenchanted
Thrown to the wolves of power.
Of pride being dragged across the floor
It isn’t as relevant as before.
Don’t let them see your weaknesses.
The Line Died.
You spoke to me on a payphone
Last night when you had alcohol seething in your veins
A monster you can’t control, a tyrant pulling you under,
This phone call epitomized love dying.
I sensed from your voice
Your addictions were aching
Powder up your nose
Bloodshot eyes disrupting your clear complexion.
You were a girl with so much vigor
A peacemaker dazzling strangers and friends
Your intelligent mind a capsule of invigoration
Your heart pulsating through your tattooed chest.
I met you at a casual university
You were smarter than me
Had numbers colliding with words in your head
You could recite poetry and writing of all kinds
I was at your disposal, I would have died for you.
When you started drinking
I was standing on a landmine
Around you I felt explosive
We were entangled in love
Counting change for the next fix of adoration
From wilder worlds full of color and dispositions.
It’s strange now that we’re despising ourselves
Your voice crackled that night
On an old receiver built fifty years ago.
That night too,
I could hear the storm brewing
The tress rustling
The cars speeding
Moments in time rushing
For a conclusion.
I couldn’t help you
You were out of town
Struggling you stand upright
Sick as a dog
Not ate in days
Your dreams struck by rage.
And I was in sitting praying to God
That someone would save you from yourself
The line died…