I still listen to that playlist of our summer
I look at photos from then,
Walk past the wine shop,
The overground,
The athletics track,
And hear, feel, see,
Taste and touch our ghosts.
I don’t think I ever won’t.
You’re still a spirit of yester
I’m fragmented
Split into the past and the future
But I can’t seem to put my lips
On the present yet
Like I pressed them into you
With the mite of ancestors at war
Kin at the push of birth
And friends when they drink too much
I’m smeared
With you all over
It’s not Mac claret anymore
Or blue dust
Just a deathly paleness
That sinks out when I sink into
What used to be
I mean it when I say I’m happy you left.
But it’s not true,
(As you haven’t)
You still linger like decades of chain smoking
On the living room walls,
Scars that healed too slowly,
And the tattoos I cover myself in –
You were there for the first few –
The first drops, come ups, fall downs…
Do you not see the pattern here?
I stitch myself into it
You’re my skeleton, my silhouette
My mannequin, truthfully
Lifeless, still, devoid of any animation
But I dance with your coldness
When the moon convinces itself that I’m worthy of it
I ache, not physically,
In that regard I’m strong, a little bit bloated, but capable
(Inside I rumble with desire)
This pushing pull that tells me I’m not full anymore
I had all the bits to make you up
- That leopard dress
- That purple tipped wig
- That face powder
- That lace nighty
- That grinder
But maybe I’m ready to step into myself
Without imitation
Or regret
No, that’s premature.
I need to become you in order to escape you
I need to get fucked up, get fucked, sing melancholically, listen to Leonard Cohen, lie, steal, manipulate, possess, pose, prey, pray, starve, binge, cry, laugh, fight, forgive
So I can learn that I don’t want to do, or be, any of those things
Ever again.
Tonight I’ve stripped myself,
Taken off all the makeup, all the made up proprieties
That I thought kept my foundations in place.
I’ve deleted you; wiped you from my hard drive
And been reborn as the body, mind, spirit, soul and skin I’ve always been
That was hiding underneath the trench coat of puppy’s lust.
So, I’m naked,
Vulnerable, even.
But I like it
I’m touching everywhere,
Rubbing up to my deserts,
And pouring over my ditches.
Famous Blue Rain coat came on
And I skipped it…
Now that’s what I call
Growth.
By Lyric Deep.
Lyric Deep™ 