Tag Archives: Pain

A light in the night (poem of mine)

You are Valium to me
An ease on the lips
And the hips
And the smooth swing of comfort
Ease me
Undo
Undo.
Storms creak
Beams tighten
And minds sway like
Ships in the night.
A touch of the lantern
Some thoughts of you
And pink lips
And darkness.
I do not like to leave late at night.
Let me stay
Let me stay
Let me stay.
A ship sways
Light folds on the horizon
A memory
A memory
A light
A light
Eyes and hands
Unfold
Unfold
A light in the night,
A light in the night.

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Mummy issues. (Poem of mine)

You unquiet the silence in my head
But I say nothing
I try to seek solace
In others
Their rigid replies
Of little help
To my aches
And pains.
It was never just a teenage angst
Though I fought
Though I was tempestuous
Truculent
Un-observant of the etiquette
You forced upon me,
In pinks and frills
And politeness,
I always wanted to fight back.
Now it is a constant expectation
That I live up to your
expectations.
I am sorry but
I’d rather not.
Paint the ceiling,
Mop the floor,
I feel as if,
I am repeating the old cliché
Of a slave driver,
herding their cattle.
Perhaps it is
Amateur dramatics,
Perhaps
I do not want to live with you,
Perhaps,
Love is best lived,
From a distance.

An understandable pain (original poem of mine)

I think after months
You understand the poison
And the mental fog
Becomes a blanket
Whose threads
Inextricably
weaved their claws around your silence.

Every morning that is bright
Feels like the pain of light
When the sunshine hurts your eyes
You retire
To the comfort
of the shades of grey.

Food has crumbled like ash in your mouth
The cigarette
Too strong
Too loud
The TV
Can shout it’s words from now till the end of time,
But each one will
Bounce
From the walls of this steel cage.
The stronghold to my mind.

When loneliness begins to feel
Like the crushing pain
That suits you so well.
You wonder whether you were made for it.

When fractured light
Throws it’s arms in the air
Every new day
At 5 am
And you are awake
And the same spot on the ceiling
Becomes
A waltz of déjà vu
Just like the days have that way
Of slowing the hours
To that soft feathered blur.