I

I once thought to myself that I didn’t want to inhale
an ability to include everything in one speech
I wanted to be able to leave things out; keep things under wraps
like a pink blanket that reminded me of a porcelain doll named Sally
from a time where innocence was not valued as much,
like hearing the words ‘I’m okay’ for the one hundredth and
forty fifth time,

like a jumbled around ‘I miss you’,
unclear and eaten up.


II

I told myself it was simpler to stay swimming in reality
instead of running down a runway and expecting lift-off
even though the doctor had said ‘your knees may be fractured’
and then poked me with extra pin pricks
because he said the needle was blunt and had been recycled
many times before.


III

I secretly told myself that I didn’t want to come to your house
to drink chamomile tea from china cups and discuss contentious topics
[like love]
while admiring a stained glass window
surrounded by an unstable frame
that reminds me loud and clear of danger,

because danger reminds me of a fog filled mind
which reminds me of a single white lie that was
painted black by a bad man
which reminds me of a failed new year resolution
which I know will one day remind me of you.


IV

If you cared,
you wouldn’t have made me want to rip off the top segments
of my fingers to stop this from falling out all too quickly, or
to stop a desire to stab a pillowcase that hides a feather pillow, just to
create a soft, fluffy kind of mess for a change of scene
instead of
counting the smiles received in twenty five point five hours
and recording them in a secret diary

would you?


V

The wrong words spilt through my lips
that have obviously not been properly trained to stay
chewed and gritted behind my teeth.
I usually swallow word-vomit; on a normal day I can
feel it rest in my stomach, and for some reason digestion can
only properly continue after that.


VI

I still remember how we searched the streets at 1:57am last November,
looking for a sign that said ‘Wrong way, go back’
because we knew that nothing else would stop us
from being so determined and mechanical.

Then came relaxation,
we poured cheap red wine into the ocean and laughed about
the possibility of the water turning purple because of it,
and just ignored the fact that it was an unfair ratio,
and that it was too dark to tell anyway.