Wings

February 14, 2012

You never wanted me to fly.
You clipped my wings with a simple lie.
You told me you loved me and after that day
I felt I could not walk away
for fear that I might never find another love;
that nothing else would ever be enough
to help me get over
what we had together.
But what you called love and affection
was nought but chains, an incarceration;
I was your slave, though I thought I was free,
a prisoner of my insecurity.

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Wings

February 14, 2012

You never wanted me to fly.
You clipped my wings with a simple lie.
You told me you loved me and after that day
I felt I could not walk away
for fear that I might never find another love;
that nothing else would ever be enough
to help me get over
what we had together.
But what you called love and affection
was nought but chains, an incarceration;
I was your slave, though I thought I was free,
a prisoner of my insecurity.

xix. She Sells…

August 25, 2011

Dreams,
like seashells held to your ear
echo foreign lands and happy times
but as we know too well,
the sounds you hear in shells
are only lies we tell ourselves.
Are dreams any different?
But still we dream,
not because of the promises they make
but because of what they represent;
because every lie told
is a glimpse at a truth that could have been
or could be
just like every soul sold
is a reminder
of a world where angels reigned,
when the devil existed only in nightmares
and stories told by mums to naughty kids.
Now, we need these dreams to see those angels
and to believe that the devil isn’t real.

Lies

June 13, 2011

She looked into your eyes,
your deep, enchanting stare,
and swallowed all the lies
you spoke without a care.

She hung on every word,
so smooth and somehow sweet
and fell for what she heard
as you spun your deceit.

She held onto your hand;
the truth, she clearly did not know.
She could not understand
why you were letting go.

She watched you walk away
and hoped that you would turn around.
She had so much to say
but could not make a sound.

xxxvii. The Game

February 27, 2011

He saw their love as little more,
Than an experiment.
A game to play,
That had no rules.
And so their story went:

He loved her just enough,
That she let him inside.
And when she did,
He set up camp,
Until the day she died.

The game of course, did not last long,
Though she would not give in.
But with no rules to speak of, he,
Was not a cheat,
And she could never win.

He teased her every way he could,
Told every lie he knew,
To make her think,
This thing was real,
Though not a dot was true.

The more he did to cause her pain,
The harder she would try,
To win his love,
And make him hers,
But he just watched her cry.

He didn’t feel a thing for her,
And when he saw her tears,
He felt no guilt,
No sense of sorrow, just,
Used them to find her fears.

And when he knew just what she feared,
He knew how to proceed;
With every move,
He hurt her more,
Indulged in his own greed.

But she, confused by what she felt,
Let him get closer every day,
She thought she might,
Get through to him,
And teach him not to play.

She thought that he could learn to love,
Of this, she felt so sure.
She thought that she,
Could make him change,
But this, of course, was just what he’d hoped for.

He let her make her futile moves;
He let her dig her hole,
For every time she tried,
She failed,
And every failure helped him take her soul.

When eventually he left,
She was a mere shell.
And yet she loved him still,
And therefore, could not see,
That he’d left her alone in hell.

For him, the game was done;
The final whistle blown;
For her it never stopped –
She never looked for more –
And when she died, his was the only love she’d ever known.

 

 

Inspired by the following lyric from Rilo Kiley’s Silver Lining:

“I never felt so wicked,
As when I willed our love to die”

xxxv. Smile

February 27, 2011

Dragging out of that hole,
The shell of a man that never was;
Showing to the world,
A face that has never known truth;
Has never felt the breeze of reality.
Scars on scars on fettered skin,
All smoothed over with the lies,
Of a happiness forged in fire.
Where do we take ourselves to die,
When here in the shadows –
In the crevices of the world –
Is where we live?

xvii. Apology

January 22, 2011

I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I let down my guard,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry you gave my heart
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I let you believe,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry the words gave you hope,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I promised a life,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I didn’t hold back,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry you let me get close,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry you thought we could last,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry you said the same back,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I let things break down,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I’ve thrown it away,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I’ve given it up
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I have to walk out,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I can’t see this through,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I turned out so weak,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I cannot go on,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you,
I’m sorry I told you I loved you.

xiv. Love Lost

January 18, 2011

Can nothing in the shadows shine? Like polished crystal in the dark —
Reflections ambushed; dull and bleak — the memories of broken hearts,
Their features blurred, like photos bleached, fade quickly into yesterday,
As stories told of romance past, with facts replaced and details lost,
Recount a love once held so dear as nothing more than fleeting fun.

Can nothing in the daylight hide? My lies, so intricately spun,
A spider’s web on wintry dawn: Clever yet not good enough.
A stutter or a nervous smile, the tell-tale flash of icy white,
A cold betrayal, warning all that come across it not to stray.
Thus I am left without; My fleeing prey, the love that I so thrive.

I’ve loved before and I’ve been loved, but now, my lovers gone, my heart,
Has scratched their names from pages in the journals of my memory.
I try to go back to that time; to picture myself in those days;
To see the faces of my past and tell them how they ‘mean the world;’
They’re ‘Everything to me,’ alas what’s gone is gone, and is no more.

So here I’m left to try again; to search the world for love anew,
And try to find what once I had; to fill the void that now resides,
But I already know too well I’ll never find that place again.
And I can never keep the lie that I’m in love alive for long;
I cannot make the words seem real, and soon I’m on my own again.