What its like

Like broken rippled reflection in water/

Like a mirage/

A dream you can’t clearly remember/

Like voices places scents you can’t forget/

Like a song sung in trance/

Like a life lived in a glance/

Like moments that smother/

Like haziness that follows teary eyes/

Moans of pleasure n anguished cries/

Like looking through a frosted glass/

Like being stuck in a hundred year ol dense thick cobweb you everyday cast/

Is what remembering you and your memories is like

conversation with a butterfly

A butterfly looked at me and laughed/

Insulted I barked/

Do you wish to be squashed/

The butterfly replied/

How do you intend to catch me/

With your clipped wings/

I will crush you and rip apart those things/

I said lets see you try and fly then/

Aah a monster pretending to be a writer with a pen/

Mocked the fragile looking creature/

Dead or alive/

Wing or no wings/

I would still be colourful, created to fly a beautiful butterfly/

While you with your burned out pen and rusty imagination can only still try/

not here anymore

it hurts and hurts and hurts

and you smile because you know

it can't hurt anymore.

It burns and burns and burns,

but it’s alright because you know it can't burn anymore.

it nudges and pushes and pinches

and pricks and shoves and stamps

and brands and throws and hammers

and gags and stabs and breaks

and you smile because you know it can't get to your heart any more

it slashes and slashes and slashes and u smile.

it crashes and bashes and sticks

and chokes and sneers and smirks

and jokes and pokes

and you just stand and smile

because your heart doesn't beat or feel any more

it searches and searches and searches

and you say don't search within me

my heart isn't here any more

it asks and coaxes and tortures

and pleads and promises

and you smile and say don't ask me ask her

she has it

my heart isn't with me any more

it came one day, uninvited

a knock on the door
followed by a reluctant tap
the sound of snow
crushed beneath subdued feet

a moment's silence
and then another knock
will you open the door?
will you let it in?

you stand close
with your ears to the door
you, as uncertain as those feet
on the other side of the door

you can hear them walk away
and then turn around
and then another gentle reluctant tap
you clench your fist
there is a twitch on your face

you stand still
then you find out
you haven't been breathing
you stand there not making a sound

the old man's clock on the wall
ticking on the rhythm of your beats
you know you shouldn't
come what may

you close your eyes
hoping the feet would go away
you know you shouldn't have
instead you open the door and say
do come in and please tell me you would stay