I will not miss you

I will not miss you

I will not miss you when winter darkens the sky and snowflakes kiss my skin. When the fire burns bright in the hearth and the candles flicker their yearning ghosts upon the wall.

I will not miss you when spring breaks the soil with green, and silently buds the shivering trees. When pale hearts are made bold by the rising sap and cupid’s sweet festival.

I will not miss you when summer spreads itself before me in wild and glorious heat. When my skin feels the sun caressing it like a lover, like an angel, like a pretty girl.

I will not miss you when autumn reminds me of solemn promise stolen by sad circumstance. When the rain trickles down my cheeks and beneath my collar and hides my stupid tears.

I will not miss you

I will not miss you

I will not miss you

Leave

As much as I care for you, about you,
It doesn't go past my need for self-preservation.
I am compelled to leave you,
Not because I can live without you,
But because I can’t pay the price of isolation you are asking for.
Letting go,
Of others I care about,
Of all that I built for myself until I met you,
Of the things I believe in, and
Of all that has been a part of who I Am,
Until Now, until I met you,
Too much of a price to pay, I think.
And the niggling doubt in my Mind
When you said or unsaid that
You Love me
But Not Love the people,
The ideas
And the life I lead that made me, Me,
The same ME you claim you fell in love with
Feels like a lie, don’t you think?

Maybe you are right.
Maybe I don’t love you enough to put you before Me.
Maybe I am too selfish to make you a priority before me.
Maybe the you I now know doesn’t inspire me,
To change myself for you,
Without your manipulation or coercion.
Maybe I love myself too much to need you,
The way you need me to need you.
And if that is true,
You should do yourself a fantastic favor,
Leave me alone and find someone,
Who can think past themselves,
Give themselves to you the way you want them to.
Hopefully, you’d remember to do the same for them.
For that is your definition of Love,
Not Mine.

Whirlwind

Even the softest

sweetest

tenderest kiss

launched

from your fingers

with the faintest

gentlest breath

endless miles away

is a caress

upon my skin

and a whirlwind

in my soul.

Rainy days

Hazel eyes raining
Soft love, unspoken, untouched
Lightening strikes my heart.

Unmoving lips call
“Stay with me”, Heartstrings pulling
Me, You, Together.

Fingers tentative
Reaching out for mine, flutter
Lovely butterflies.

Ifs and chances

There is a joyous jolt

of certain recognition

followed by a sudden

desperate sense of loss

when you realise

the stranger

who you passed on the street

or saw in a bar

or watched depart

on a distant bound plane

could have been

the rest of your life.

Extraordinary

If I was a grand architect of design.

If I was the master of texture, colour, shape, style and beauty.

If I could mould and fashion and forge personality, intelligence, sensitivity, sensuality, generosity and strength.

If I possessed the perfect, potent power of pure magic

If I was a wild-eyed cosmic genius with a boundless, endless, limitless imagination.

If my creativity dwarfed and humbled every artist, scientist, writer, sculptor and mathematician who had ever graced the planet.

Even if I had dominion over all things

I still could never create a creature

as unique

and as extraordinary

as woman.

Lies

I tell her I am fine

That everything is good.

That my writing is going well. A thousand words a day, and not one of them sad.

That I am going out in the evenings. To the PUB in town. The noisy one with the live music and the dealers and the tarts. I know the bartender by name. We have a laugh.

I tell her I can listen to the radio without blinking back tears. I can watch movies without reliving us.

I tell her I am happy

That I’ve met a girl.

That she is pretty and petite and likes to laugh. And to please me. In lots of ways.

That she dances and sings and really cares about the planet. And that kind of stuff.

I tell her I am content

That I sleep soundly at night.

Well… most nights.

I tell her I am glad she has found someone special..

That I am delighted. Honestly. Truly.

For her.

I tell her I am glad.

I just lie

about everything.