The Pensieve for my Soul

Don’t forget me, she pleaded…
As if I could.
As if the winds could huff and puff away the woods.

So never! I swore.
Oh my love, hear my roar.
In a decade, no, two more besides,
you will be emblazoned in the flames of my crimson candle;
a symbol that even the sun dared not handle.

From then on I slept
with candles dancing in my head;
I shall not forget! I shall not forget!

A decade past, and then two more besides;
till the time finally came to fulfill my vow.
At 12 noon, the centre of the day,
I lit my crimson candle,
taking care to ensure the flame did not sway.

And if you were passing by and you saw and you said pray tell?
I would place my fingers on my temple
and wrinkle my nose in thought;
for I could not, for the life of me, tell you why,
my crimson candle shone in the summer sun.

6 AM.
Faint cracks of sunlight from the yawning sun
filter through the drapes,
intruding and illuminating.

Cigarette burns on the white sheets,
Cocaine on the dresser;
Liza naked and asleep on the pillows,
Vodka bottles on the floor;
you immovable in my head.
Still.

I’m off to the party! I say,
in my short skirt and cigarette.

You look me over
and say that I should change,
but what are we without sin?
Just flesh and bone and sewn-on skin.

Together at each close of day
we sit in the yard and stare at pink sunsets,
daydreaming of times past and runaway things;
We talk and you laugh, leaning into my shoulder as you are wont to do.
And though they may be right when they say,

the only heaven to be had
is the heaven in our heads,

those sunsets with you
are heaven enough for me.

I am there, as I was in the beginning
Not too close, but never too far away
As you make your way into the grandiose,
by now a familiar arena.

You float along
so radiant, so graceful.
Hand waving to the cries of affection 
that litter the midnight sky.

“Oh pretty rose!”
“Oh beauty queen!” They say.
“Take my passion… no, take mine!” They cry.
And one by one they toss their hearts to the floor
to pave the path beneath your feet.

Yeah… Go ahead and take it all in.
Even let yourself smile a little… I know I will be… And why not?

Look at you,
You pretty rose, wrapped in red so plush
thriving on the stares of a thousand suns
[slight smirk]
but even pretty roses wilt in the heat, my dear
And soon enough you will lose your flush.

And what then?

What happens when the light that you have so adored shines on your darkness?
What happens when it makes your secrets glow?
What happens when the people that crowned you
so vocally, so violently,
suddenly go silent…?
As the fingers of their quiet stares tighten around your throat…
Who will wrest you from my grip?

[slight chuckle]

When I come for you
Growling
Snarling
Baying
Who will save you from me?

I am here, as I was in your beginning
not too close, but never too far away
and you will never be rid of me.

She appeared as if out of nowhere,

an apparition in the haze;

with her sparkling black dress and sparkling black hair;

a melancholy beauty that commanded attention.

She shut her eyelids and, intrigued, our lips closed with them;

an expectant hush filling the crowded, darkened room.

And then it came.

Slowly at first, like all things that have to feel its way across a dark room…

Then wave after wave, it came –

grief and passion and joy and hate, the same.

She held a thousand worlds within her lungs

that she seemed determined to expel within her songs

Her voice bobbed and weaved, and my heart flowed with it

Soaring as it rose, crashing as it softened.

Then at its peak, when she had my universe on its knees,

it flat-lined, she smiled… And I blew out a sigh, spent.

Tell me one, then tell me another
and watch them waltz into my heart together,
treading and trotting and trampling.
For what are lies really, but truths in masks,
gracefully destroying with every tip-toe step
as they dance at the Masquerade Ball,
with all your other lies that I’ve kept. 

If I could wear your mask upon my face
and make your burden my own,
I would take the ache right from your crown
and bear the pain alone

Alas, we are our own tragedies,
and mine is (already) far too steep;
But should your head ever grow weary,
my shoulders are yours to keep

Why does your face wear the night?

“Because she left… And took my day with her.”

Standing on the edge,
he looked deep into her eyes;
Deep into the abyss
that housed her heart

He took a deep breath,
The wind whispering through his hair;
The time had come,
he knew what he had do

At that height he would surely die,
or her love would birth him anew;
Which one it was he could not say,
but paradise was only a leap away

…but paradise is only a leap away
 

broken and human
and imperfect. I am flawed,
but my love is not

Like a thief in the night
you stole my dreams as I slept;
Under the cover of moonlight
you claimed all the love that I kept

You pulled me from the dark
and into the blinding bright;
With just a smile and nary a remark
you lifted me high, till we were out of sight

cut me darling, cut me deep
cut me till (my) veins begin to weep
and when it seems like I’m on the edge
cut me till I take the leap

I will walk you to your fire (she said),
through the furnace,
past the charred remains of burnt cardiovasculars
I will walk you to the teeth,
till the flaming tongues lick our heels,
but I will not jump in

surreptitiously,
she made her home in my head
now she won’t get out