Wednesday, 21 May 2008

The Sore

A sight for sore eyes,

Like sunshine during rain; a warm surprise.

Not perfect beauty, but on me it grew,

Clean straight lines, shared by very few.

Not an ounce of extra flesh from his head to toe,

Beauty which brought him love, and also many a foe.

It wasn’t love at first sight,

But with time it felt so right.

Of course there were ups and downs,

On him and me did many pounce.

But night after night, day after day,

He managed to keep my demons at bay.

One day there was no more black or white,

Only a dull seeping grey, no bright light.

The shadows seeped into my heart,

The monsters drove us far apart.

We’d sit, hands holding, skin touching,

But the spaces were only widening.

One day when the sun rose slowly,

The grey had spread, deadly and surely.

As I went about my morning,

I didn’t know what was coming.

Then I undressed, ready to shower,

I saw it – at me did it glower.

It was a sore on my chest,

On my heart, above my left breast.

That night he didn’t notice it,

Though in the light, in front of him I did sit.

It did not hurt me, the sore,

But I felt it as I didn’t before.

Sucking away my warmth and life,

Bringing gloom, grey and strife.

The next morn I cried as I rose,

The sore, to grow did it chose.

Day by day, night by night,

It took away all my light.

Invisible demons tortured me,

Love from my life did flee.

With the coming of the sore,

I saw what I’d never seen before.

The demons were right to abuse me,

My lover was laughing behind my back you see,

In our home did he play a charming host,

Each day with new notches on his bed post.

Light never returned, darkness never left,

But he never once noticed how’d I’d turned bereft.

He never spoke with love as he did earlier,

His dark eyes to me grew murkier.

A long time did this go on,

Over him did many women fawn.

Till one morn I packed up and went away,

Without a hint, nothing to him did I say.

The sore on my breast has faded since then,

And I’ve since kept my distance from men.

You see,

The sore had reached deep into my blood,

The grey had seeped in like dirty mud.

On me it slowly grew,

Noticed only by very few.

So closely was it linked to my love,

So heavily did it cover my eyes from above.

Sometimes I wish I'd cut his heart out,

But I think maybe my heart would I be without.

My rage would have gotten me nowhere,

It was peace I seeked now away from his lair.

The sore has gone now, left me with a mark.

I can almost see it even in the dark.

It has left me numb, in a sort of peace,

But without any grey, without any disease.

I look at the stars tonight and think of him,

Though I know he will be where the lights are dim.

With a fawn draped over his arm,

One submitting to all his oozing, deadly charm.