I didn’t write for a whole year
Because I was so happy,
La la la
In pretty dresses,
My Sunday best,
Your arms warm
wrapped around me like a
I didn’t want to wake up.
I wrap myself in blankets now,
I traded dresses for trousers,
I don’t wear much makeup anymore;
I am starting to think it was all for you.
Maybe it was,
Perhaps it’s all just a transaction in the end.
Perhaps now I’ll make my own cocoon
I will stop waking up at 3am, wondering how a pillow replaced your chest.
I always thought we’d find our way back together, somehow, sometime, someplace. And we did. But we were older and we had changed.
You had made me cold.
You left. You were always good at walking away.
You did not look back this time.
You should have told me that you wanted to fight.
NIC- newly industrialised person
And the word boyfriend sounded foreign to me
As if it should be spoken from another girl’s lips.
When I did say it, it was through a gravel mouth
as though I was cursing your half smile and rough hands
that furrowed brow, how everything was a thought process to you. (Love cannot and should not be analysed, databased or calculated).
And as though I had not heard from you in one hundred years,
I Extricated Myself.
Your ice eyes and my tense body
something falls together
Is not how quickly it will fall apart.
Distance can drown your lungs as every gasp of air is filled with someone else’s laugh
That water laugh
all light and salt,
Maybe I wouldn’t be so messed up in the head
If we’d never met,
Knowing that night I should have left,
But I clung to your bed
With my head on your chest.
I can still feel your arms,