drowning season revamp

drowning season 

this town is bleak, belittling —

every corner stark against the past and the present.

red beady eyed monsters preying in alleyways of bendy bumpy paths which know no ends or mercy.

even here,

i found moments in your eyes,

that were beautiful.

behind blue eyes you concealed an anguished venomous wave that bashed and collided with shores —

it crashed like the weight of a thousand pacific oceans.

heavy and full of terror,

it swallowed me whole.

i even tried to love the inclination of the venom,

as it wrapped my lungs,

as it pulled me under,

i became a hollow shell of your tide.

the gaping wounds of crimson red concealed with shadows of the sun.

still, only once i was diluted — 

only once i was less,

would you even allow my silhouette 

to slip through the shadows of you 

with one big gulp.

will they notice the birthmark,

painted like stained glass,

in which traces the behind of your calf?

do i ever dance through your mind on nights where the sparkly dublin sky

stretches wide,

reflecting the past like an antique silver?

our bodies once brushed like gentle whispers of the night,

plush pillows and feathers of a dove were foreign to me and so — lips moved to the bruising word.

“forever.”

but now?

i would fight,

i would kick,

i would scream, like a lost child in a crowd,

tiny fists shaking at the burning sky above

against the wreck you made of me —

against the wreck i’ve made of myself.

i’m not sure you knew that you packed my soul to your suitcase,

tucked between a fold of my raw lesioned heart —

hidden between folded shirts and the thread and needle in which you had used,

to taint our mouthes shut with.

i could never forget the deflate of air from my body 

or the purple of my skin —

the one way ticket shun

under embers of realisation.

none of these things would ever find their return —

nor would you. 

no longer do i taste your salty shore roll and slice upon the porcelain of my cheeks,

just a-new to the dullness of the world around me —

how vast and dark this town truly is.