The Everest

Everest-575683

After days of climbing, with the sharp breeze caressing my face like the hands of a dying lover, I reach the top. At the highest point of humanity, I’ve never felt so low, insignificant. Here a top of this ice sculpture I realise that if I froze right now I would be nothing but another rock, adding one more layer to something bigger.

Image: GOOGLE
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Progression

Her eyes were wide open
searching for that spark
she named love at first sight;

Promoted by hormonal variation,
mood and attraction.
Actually, it was but an inbred reaction
that shook her
core,
bones,
navel.

and made her
sigh deeply,
relax notoriously,
f
a
l
l
astronomically

Though like in a ripped rope
the connection was cut.
She realised that right from the start
her eyes were in fact tightly shut.

Reach

Reach out.
Stretch your limbs,
your arms, your fingers,
your soul, your essence;
Reach deeper.

Reach into my body.
Grab it, own it, claim it;
Carefully though,
reverently,
don’t break me.

Reach into my soul,
as if it’s the most wonderful poem you’ve ever heard.
Read between the lines, hear the way my heart beats –
like an overexcited metronome as you hold me.

Reach into my thoughts.
Pull out the poison ivy that has a hold on my brain.
Make my head spin, my hands shake, my heart race…

Make me see colour in a world that was once so grey.

Masterpiece

I was floating in the middle of a green field

when I felt cold hands grabbing my waist.

A pocket square covered my mouth –

chloroform had never smelled so bittersweet.

 

I remember when I told you I liked red,

you said I looked exquisite in it.

Is that why you made me bleed?

So you could paint my body with your fingers,

touching,

ripping,

shredding.

Crafting and carving on my skin.

 

I recall when I told you I liked purple,

until I became it.

Your face branded on my eyelids every time I moved,

with your twisted fingers you tattooed me.

The arms around me resembled a cage –

I should have run when I had the chance.

 

I remember when you said my grey eyes were beautiful.

maybe you liked them so much that you wanted them still.

The gris turned to ice, losing its sparkle.

Orbs always open and never blinking

you would be the last thing I see.

 

I recall every time you said

you would help me become what I found most beautiful.

I was the only canvas you needed to express your artistry.

you loved me and would transform me into your masterpiece.

I wonder, if I had said I was colour blind, would you have let me be?

Heroin

To your eye I was a Roman feast
that you would like to dissect in every way
until you could nib at my broken bones.
Then you’d lick your bloody lips and grab the next dish.

You tied me like a pig for slaughter,
I couldnt escape you and I tried.
Did this forced submission bring you power
or did this version of kleptomania fuel your desire?

You bit me, you tasted my skin,
you choked me when I tried to scream.
I was hopeless, I was helpless,
my fear to you was heroin.

Sept 2016