A Funny Story

We’d argue until the early hours of the morning.

I’d sit in the 6am rain with a cigarette and a glass of water, spitting blood onto your patio.

The neighbours must have become concerned

for the crying girl in her Calvin Klein’s.

I told my mum I’d fallen.

I told my friend it was ‘a funny story’.

 

Your forearm would pin my neck against the wall

whilst your tear-stained lips told me

how much you loved me, you’d die without me.

Your forearm would envelope my chest

in a furtive attempt at hiding my assets from prying eyes.

Your lips would brush my ear

People are looking, you would say

People are looking, put them away.

Why did I stay?

 

 

Four years later you asked to see me and you cried the entire time.

Thick, salted tears that stained my clothes.

You’d been a block of ice in my life for so long

but that day I breathed my summer sunshine on you

and you melted.

 

 

rewrite of my poem Naïve.

Naïve

I thought I was in love with you. You haunted my life for five years with your words, your eyes, your hands and your tears. I was too young and too naïve to leave, too scared of loneliness, too empathetic to abandon you in your ball of depression. I covered myself up, I ignored my makeup, my friends didn’t know me anymore. I didn’t know myself.

Why did I stay?

I thought I was in love with you. You manipulated my mind, warped my beliefs and made me think I was the antagonist, I was the devil in our cat-and-mouse relationship. We’d argue until the early hours of the morning. I’d sit in the 6am rain with a cigarette and a glass of water, spitting blood onto your patio. The neighbours must have become quite concerned for the crying girl in her Calvin Klein’s.
I told my mum I’d fallen.
I told my friend it was a funny story.

Your forearm would pin my neck against the wall whilst your tear stained lips told me
how much you loved me.

You’d die without me.

Why did I stay?