Friday, 1 November 2013


Baby, the world’s still turning,
The grey is still fading, but look at that,
For the first time, there’s no mist,
She’s ruling with a sturdy goddamn fist.
Angry, seething, but more about time lost,
We’ll never find it again.

Two letters, two poems and four postcards,
Words put down in paper that we can’t erase
Memories trying to be forgotten,
Nail marks, kisses, caresses, vulnerability,
Tears, texts, a pair of earrings, pieces of skin.

But look at that,
The strange lights in the sky,
She’s alone, but not crying,
Take back what you can,
The earlier girl is gone too,
Look what she’s regained,
What left the earlier one so pained.

Wings sprout in her chest,
They try to take flight.
Remembering to live life for oneself,
Not for the stubbled excuse of a knight.

The life we had is gone now,
The love that wasn’t supposed to be,
The love that was never free,
The love that cut to the bone,
Loving a boy with a heart of stone.

We lived every cliché in the book,
Tried to forget every word we mistook.
It goes day by day now,
Buried deeper under the snow.
We don’t need anyone to bear the burden,
It’s best borne alone,
Sometimes with others too.
Don’t worry, baby,
The earlier girl is gone.
She smirks at the death of old love,
Caresses the promise of new fire.
Fire which will burn it all up
Before she moves to another shape,
Liquid steel, moulding every action,
The ice that steams as it meets the flames.

Nail marks, kisses, caresses,
Shards of glass, smooth surfaces,
Wheels that keep on turning,
A sun that keeps on rising, setting.