Your patterns still potter around my mind.

The way you cried, the reasons why, your

Cracking voice, the shivering lips. I shared

Your heartache, never knew why, always

Clinging to you and your sadness, never dissolving.

Never could I cure anything, always wanting to, never

Enough, good enough, darkness erupts out of nowhere.

 

I bring people home with me, people I dislike,

Drag them home, in my head, the people that got

Under my skin, the invisible rash, that I hide from everybody,

I take them home and I listen to them, endlessly to their chicanery.

Their never-ending tapes of misery, drowning me, I do it

Voluntarily because I fell asleep with you. It could be one bad voice

Amongst a load of good ones, doesn’t matter, I can’t see the sun no more.

The bad one infects me, twists me entirely, empties me.

 

And I ask myself why I can’t stop it in the moment.

Why I keep listening and absorbing, letting the people

In and through and across. Why do I feed them, supply them

With everything they need to destroy me, why do I give them

The power that is mine? I know they’re wrong and yet, they

Wreak havoc under my skin, it pleasures them to see that they’re

Winning, that I can be disheartened, torn apart, crying whilst I’m

Smiling. You keep your demons and I’ll keep mine.

Francesco_Ballesio_-_одалиска

“одалиска” by Francesco Ballesio (1860-1923)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: