Last Night

I saw my mother
her arms stretched wide
as she welcomes me.
I sink into her skin
and breathe in her scent
feel her heart beating
close to my face;
I’m a child again.
My innocent eyes
search her pale face
but she’s in shadow
hidden by the darkness
that took her.

I’ve missed you.

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?

Teeth

I had that dream last night –

My fingers were long and twisted

My mouth bruised and blistered

I bow my head and spit my teeth into my shaking palm

They land like shining white pearls

Perfectly imperfect in their warm bath of blood