I Do Not Blame You

I do not blame you for these past few years, the paths that I have taken,
The roads I have mistakenly wandered down, the choices I have made,
I do not blame you.

I was walking, running, lost and reckless.
Like a little girl in a park, who has lost her Dad,
And can’t find her way back,
I do not blame you for that.

I am angry with you for not being there.
I am angry that you couldn’t tell me you loved me
When he broke my heart.
I am angry that you couldn’t tell me you loved me
When I broke his.
I am angry that you couldn’t say well done
When I did something good.
I am angry that you couldn’t say it’s ok
When I made a mistake.

And I am angry with you for not being there
For me to find again.
And I am sad that I have to leave this place
And go back into the world,
Without the man that used to hold my hand.
 

Sitting in her Corner

Her life was just in front of her, but shaking in its frame.
From that dark cave, she could smell its nature, its air, its sunshine,
But what she could see and feel she could not taste.

A man tethered to a post when the sun is at its highest,
To have been given a glass of water a foot out of his reach,
Perhaps if he wasn’t too weak,
He could stretch to find the water,
But alas, he had no strength but to rest.

She too was tied to her corner,
Dehydrated, too weak.

So what would be her fate -
To stand, to sit, to lie and then to die,
Hidden in her corner?
The corner that signified her belongings,
Her status in this existence.

To leave the corner would be to leave her possessions,
Would be to leave her only form of identity.
If that was possible, what could the nature, the air and the sunshine before her
Offer someone with nothing but a story about a corner,
Where she may have once resided?

Death would not be her fate.
If she did not have the threat of it
How could it exist?
To sit, and stare,
And look, and perceive,
And presume, and wonder
Tethered to her corner,
That would be her fate. 

Rest

I am forgetting how to write and read
And talk about the things I love
And dance and sing and shout and scream.

I am Melting my walls, slowly with care -
And staring and staring at nothing but air
And knowing that nothing but nothing will last.

It flutters away, like a beautiful thing
Resting, then flying, whimsically -
What a thing, what a moment, what a thought.

To breath and breath and hear
A beat, a flicker, a travelling stream
With but one purpose
To beat, to flicker; a travelling stream.

I am forgetting how to write and read
And dance and sing and shout and scream,
But to rest and breathe and have some peace -

What a thing, what a moment, what a thought. 

tnugent:

“Fall asleep in your branches
You’re the only thing I ever want anymore.”

tnugent:

Fall asleep in your branches

You’re the only thing I ever want anymore.”

Nick Cave - God is in the House

Sleep

If only to watch the stars at night, I would stay awake,
if only to wait for you to come home, I would stay awake,
If only to check, again and again, I would stay awake.

But you, with your cold cold mouth, and your cold cold stare
Point at the heavens and scream:
'Who are you to look at me? Chasing and calling, but ever failing
To connect, recollect and shame me back down to where
I belong, reside and was born.’

If only sleep did befriend those that cannot rest.  

At the End of My World

Wearing her ivory dress she took me by the hand,
And led me to the isolated beach.
The clouds were low, the mood was desolate,
The waves were calm and our feet were bare.
As we walked further hand in hand,
She led me into the sea where we stood,
And looked outward towards the horizon.
The water was warm, and my feet at rest in the sand.
Slowly she let go of my hand,
And walked forward until the water clung to her hips.
I could see her dress rising as the gentle waves became fiercer.
I could see the clouds grow darker, as the rain fell heavier.
I walked forward to bring her back to me,
But there was a great sound and the horizon was no longer there.
Only a wall of black rising higher and higher,
Racing towards us.
I screamed her name,
Through the sounds of the oncoming slaughter and the pelting rain.
She turned her head, and looked over her shoulder,
She smiled, turned back, and walked a little further.