Confidence;
you always had a way about you,
ever since I can recall.
Throw back
to an old hand gesture,
telling me everything
about how you feel.
Skin shows
through holes in denim,
like accusations
levelled in silence
and there’s almost a taste
of self incarceration.
Why did you ever buy me flowers?
I can still smell the stain.
Any reprieve from this recollection
would be too late;
I’m too far gone.
You dissipate me,
like a mouthful of spit
into the ocean.
I have lost resolve
and you have lost the will,
to kill,
or make it better.
Convoluted;
we agree somehow.
we compliment each other.
Dark eyes
bely a charming smile;
a little piece of sour.
Never taking off
those rings that you stole,
like you had captured Saturn.
Buying time
with stolen notes
and overflowing vessels.
Biding my whole life
just to watch you
wander close enough to the edge,
that I could reach up and grab you.
Your breath isn’t even bitter.
You’ve managed to keep
a modicum
of ladylike conviviality
and noble bearing,
despite my best and only efforts.
You surrounded me
with four walls
and expectations.
I know nothing of
this kind of lonely decadence.
You befit me.
Where do you find it?
The stamina to keep on
living,
dying,
completing
the Atom Bomb.
Constructing,
destroying
The Universe,
like a children’s toy.
You’re running on empty,
with more than enough
momentum
to carry you over
the Event Horizon.
I’ll watch you achieve
something like divinity,
with wonder in my eyes
and hands broken,
from trying to hang on
to an accident on purpose.
So brilliant;
impossible to achieve
without wings,
or confidence.
HG – 2017
