Twin flame, mother fucker — a poem
I remember moments
Between me begging
For communication,
Tearing out my heart
In an unmapped nation,
A road rarely taken.
Letting each stone wall,
Break and turn to dust
Combine and combust
Into deep red rubies
I presented, I felt I must.
I made precious memories,
From ruthless nothingness.
In-between moments
When you decided
It was time to talk.
That I was ‘able’, lucid
Calmer, softer
More malleable, stupid.
Text message tirades,
Digging at recesses in my heart
With ‘but I love you’ spades.
I’d stayed, I wouldn’t go.
I loved you,
And you believed
It would always be so.
But, beautiful man
You beautifully forgot,
Who the fuck I am.
That game you play
I bend the rules.
Take no prisoners.
Turn those rubies into slippers,
That sit at my feet
And I wear when I wish it.
An infinite snippet,
A peephole horizon,
Oxymoronic infinite,
Never-ending Poseidon.
Thank god my memory,
Never once faltered.
Obscured, it seemed
From the blue-green alter
Of your stark, iris colour.
But a man of light and wonder
Can still be eaten, by darker.
And I ate you, in the times you told me
I was ruled by my trauma
That I was a liar,
An afraid pariah,
Who only existed in the eye
Of the beholder.
There were moments of wonder,
Enlightened thunder.
Edging further and deeper.
Deep, dreamy sleeper
Who had one-eye-open, wondering
A self-made Goddess of each
Over-thought pondering
That would fall from my head
Into horizons, waiting.
The world became my river
And I am its ocean.
Each rock a toy to
Move in slow motion.
I’ve reached my limit.
Of your vapid, arms-lengthening
Your tiny understanding
Of my vastness and
Your meandering.
Frozen because you had more
In your hands than
You could handle.
And blamed an iced candle
For diamond gifted blisters
She left you on every finger.
So you sucked them dry
A sentenced victims’ dinner.
You pushed me away,
And told me I did it.
Blamed each reaction
On a pain you inflicted.
Words, silence, a pattern I expected
Read like a barcode
In each cryptic message.
You’ll talk to me when I’m ‘calmer’
Spit-balm, spiny armour,
Sea urchin words clamour
From man, mine, lover, Xander.
A whirling cartwheel of
Soul-destroying candour.
I am one of many,
Now burned at your spire.
Made entirely, of the ranting desire,
To be better than you are.
And my love found you there
Between that little boy
That my little girl sees
And respects, smiles at
Is eager to please.
You’re forgetting, still
That the girl is me.
A woman, grown, formidable, free.
Always forgiving each hit.
Because if you had a twin,
Then I am it.
