Push (28th April, 2008, 11.15pm)
I concentrate, my brow a washed out beach
As I push, one by one, the lies back in between your teeth;
Brave little soldiers, going down,
In your saliva they might drown,
Where I once left my deposits,
They might choke you.
I hope they do.
I do not feel either love or hate
Just a hollowness in the air now that your words aren’t there
Filling the air between us; promises,
Heard and aired too much;
A washing line of lines;
Why do words hurt?
My skin crawls with your touch.
I push the memories in afterwards,
Twisted up like paper balls and crumpled photographs;
I tear them from my brain, like cells,
Just matter that doesn’t matter,
Squidgy pieces of a life once shared
In what’s termed ‘the past’.
Our past is my present to you.
Here, take these gifts in your mouth,
I force apart your lips with my rejection;
Just a version of perfection,
Like we all were, once,
In the eyes of our beholders,
Ah, we grow older.
We only live to learn.
