Monday, 6 February 2017

Tuesday, 1 November 2016

// come with me, you are important //



I have seen your red rubbed eyes
through streaming silken water,
open & wincing clean
            I have seen you hock up brown globs
            of weekend spit, I’ve seen you scour
            your ciggie finger back to baby pink
            back to monday’s weather

Lying there like a sleeper, what
are you doing on the inside
of your eyelids, did you
leave yourself elsewhere?

Sometimes, our shared silence
is unnoticed, busy brains and sometimes
it is a waiting game
                        Sometimes, I think to give you vitamins
                        & ask about your nutrition
                        I have seen you black lipped

You say things I don’t quite catch, I say ‘what?’
you say ‘nothing.’ I say ‘what?’ again & you say ‘no it was nothing.’
& later you’re gone & somehow
my mind slides into place
the cogs of your sentence
            it’s like hearing a song with simple lyrics
            so simple they don’t make sense
            but later you’re in a mood, drunk
            or horny, you listen again and it’s like fuck

“you know, I’ve got mood swings that I can’t drink off”

You are my morning shower.
You are my trusty bobby pin.

            I think I might see you on trams or on a random
            suburban street. That street’s so you, I would say.

                        Sometimes, I forget about you.
                        & the part of my brain that is a Venn diagram
                        keeps you safe in one of the inner nooks
                        not the center, but close

Unhelpful thought patterns
are often derived from an underlying value
how we think the world should work
* how we think we work
            I shouldn’t waste time
            I can’t succeed

You think I should worry less.
I’m really trying.

            Sometimes, your hands light up
            two glowing saucers like an energy ad
            you feel special, and you feel fear
            that it’ll all unravel

I think I’m speaking
directly to some part of you
that has been waiting to listen
I think
I think I’ve been waiting to speak

            You have seen me choke on words and waited
            You have seen me lie

I have seen you, with complete lack of structure
bundle around the room
fretting over scarves, lost in the movement

you are a leisurely stroll
through the gardens

we’re similar, and not

                        Sometimes, you turn your light on for me and give
                        me all you’ve got, I know it’s tiring
                        and I don’t mean to be a drainer
                        Sometimes, we keep each other alive

Sometimes, we walk into uncertainty
we find beauty in the dirt, in the restaurant sign
in the interaction with the sales clerk
            we hold hands
            we are every pleasant uber ride
            we say yes.