I want to know how your day went, head bent, message un-sent. I’m fighting- reaching out. I want to know how you feel, where you are, how it’s all going, I want to give you advice, listen to silent lies, internal cries. I wana make you laugh, I wana hear your humour, I wana laugh away what’s sore. I wana be there. I wana be able to care. Restricted in the no-more. I now can’t show… too much interest. Communication, a game.
I’m to blame, I remember the uncertainty in your voice. I met it with a cold goodbye. I met your explanations, feelings- with zero, understanding. Sarcasm. Has it, always been this way? Now I am far far away. And I’m thinking of the days when it wasn’t so hard. And I’m planning for the next times, planning for me to be in better times. Planning to shine. Twinkle.
And I’m jealous, of the people who get your attention. I’m in tension- waiting for my next warm hand. Another heart-mind to understand.
I remember when you held me through the night, left me sleeping, let me cry. A gothic teen, depressive in my, dressing gown. I could wear my frown. As my crown. I remember when you stroked my face. Hands now- not in place-
I remember when I lay there- wondering why we aren’t making out like lovers do. And you told me you was confused.
I just wana know if your ok. Mis-placed, seeker. Lover. Masked, restricted. Lying in a pool of non-truth. Feelings. Looking for you, painter of the moon. Man who leaves too soon. And I bloom.
Is this how I look for love? Let downs, tests and a witch who casts expecting clouds over princes who give crowns, and crowns and crowns.
And I drown looking for shells.