Subdued, I resolve:
I must savour you in morsels.
Failing,
I attempt to stem thin red tears
With the gentle graze
Of my serrated edge.
You've got to be bad to get good
Subdued, I resolve:
I must savour you in morsels.
Failing,
I attempt to stem thin red tears
With the gentle graze
Of my serrated edge.
I feel so intensely
The fatal unfurling of each cardiac fibre;
The snap and recoil of too-taut sinews.
The excruciating pain of an impalpable wound.
I never want you to feel pain
Except if I inflict it.
I want you to be hooked on me;
Besotted and addicted.
I need that lovesick kind of love,
More pungent than sweet nothings.
Fill my mouth with acrid words
And poison me with loving.
[29/12/18]
How many more poems are in you?
I don’t want to keep writing about you.
Thinking about you.
Living and reliving you.
I don’t remember good with you.
I don’t want that nearness to you;
That association.
How much pain is in me still?
It is mine, not yours.
I reclaim my pain.
I reclaim my words.
[06/01/19]