When I met you, I was possibly still a little broken inside. I needed stitches and bandages to cover the open wounds throughout the layers of my skin. Paper cuts on my heart and grazes on my ankles. Completely covered in invisible bruises for no-one else to see. I was fixing my own wounds one by one as the months passed by. Taking care of my own skin, the only body I will ever call mine. I didn’t plan on falling for anyone so soon. I was in recovery and I didn’t want any help. I especially didn’t plan on falling for someone like you. Someone who laughs so loudly and smiles so boldly. I guess that’s when I realised that some things in life just happen. They happen when you’re not expecting them to happen at all. Like a clear midnight sky with a single shooting star passing through. I found myself falling and I wasn’t scared. This wasn’t like all the times before, this was different. This was simple and easy, like waking up every morning to meet the morning sun. Blind to the possibility of it ever happening again and suddenly you’re hit. Maybe that’s how love begins. It doesn’t start slowly. It doesn’t creep up behind you and tap your shoulder until you turn around. It hits you suddenly, like a car crash at 3am.
I didn’t deserve you.
I was still piecing together pieces of my skin like a jigsaw. But the finished image was something fresh now. A complicated mirage of you and me. And just maybe, that was the way it was supposed to be.
The rhythm of our hearts
Beating together like a metronome
White stains in time with the waves
Crashing on the shores of home
Drowning love on the beach shore
Drifting together through lipstick kisses
Wandering hands flowing with the sea
Wet bodies crying
Angel opened her heart when she met you,
She embraced every touch, every inch of skin,
Every hit you threw.
Your darkness was consuming,
Like black lace on a size eight model,
clinging to everything.
Angel wanted to be the answer,
To every question you would ever have,
Secrets haunted your soul,
You let Angel be your ghost.
Blow the candles out,
Blindfold her heart,
Turn the lights off,
Let love grow.
Drowning amongst surrounding doors, closing quickly one by one. Deafened by the silence screaming in her soul. Exchanging sorry words with her heart.
“You are ready.”
Standing poised … staring blankly into the glass of every door that faced her. Her reflection melting rationally as the moon kisses her cigarette burnt skin.
The stars in her eyes glisten like the bubbles in the champagne glass waiting at table seventeen. Again.
“He left you. You can move on. Right now.”
Lighting a cigarette to inhale the calmness of the ocean breeze. His face lovingly stares through the restaurant window. Eager.
A new love, as clean as fresh sheets on a Monday morning.
What if the night sky never fell,
the stars became extinct,
questions formed on bending knees,
praying to a blank canvas.
What if your eyes cast upon my face,
witnessing fire within my lungs,
swimming pools in my eyelids,
and you drowned.
What if the power cut out,
bleeding tongues spilling memories,
the truth seeped out through fingertips,
dragged across broken skin.
What if you still loved me,
how the wind and destruction intertwine,
how the sun kisses snowflake skin,
like the day we first met.
What if you still loved me,
the way I still love you.
I watched as your body approached over the hilltops with such a marvellous sense of self doubt, screaming with a practised form. I can’t help but to listen to the crisp sound of your heart beating and withering like the flame of a candle burning out. Your left hand cuddling the end of a cigarette, a menthol touch stained between your innocent fingers.
When I am not with you, I feel lost at sea. Playing hide and seek with insecure affection, both convinced that love is just a suicide.
He gave me that look, staring at my pretty prink dress sprawled out over the green grass glowing in the present sun. That look sent shivers over my body. Starting in my bones and finishing on the outskirts of my skin, freeing themselves into the fresh Winter breeze.
“You don’t know what you do to me. It’s sweater weather and you’re dressed for the Summer. You’re skin is ice just so you can look good for me.”
I wanted him to want me. My imagination was craving fire and ice. Icicles forming on my pale pink skin and his touch was the Summer sun burning through my soul, starting an immense fire in my heart.
I was in the palm of your hand waiting for you to give me a place to grow, like a plant searching for the light in a darkened room. We were curious satellites searching through time and space for another hand to hold.
“Winter words won’t affect my Spring feelings. They will grow around the tulips and dance amongst the narcissi. They won’t burn in the Summer sun.”
That’s when I undeniably knew.
All I wanted was you.
She wasn’t the most beautiful woman on the planet, but she was mine. Her eyes glistened like diamonds and her laugh was a ray of sunshine in July.
The world surrounded her and she bloomed like a daffodil in the height of spring. The sky wasn’t her limit – she had none. Her soil was her coffee and her water was her career.
She didn’t need me.
I was just an accessory to her happiness.
My hands were blocks of Antarctic ice and her body was a campfire.
The first time I kissed her was electric. Not just a firework or two but an entire display. A spark of a flame that felt as though it could set the world alight.
That’s my girl.