Tonight I am ordering love.
reckless love.
Home wrecking, ass fucking love
Slapped face, nail biting, law breaking love
Phone slamming, blow snorting, neknominating love
Love that effects me
I want this love to take me to counselling
To fuck my relationships,
I want law breaking, hand tying love
Disrespecting love
Sick bed love
Life numbing love
That doesn’t relent
Over time
She washes up
On the pavement
Like pockmarked glass
Penniless
And Godless
And nameless
To him
Worth only
The femininity underneath
The gray tracksuit bottoms.
He spits her
Opiate eyed
To the mercy
Of the street.
She is all blood
And tears
Alone and standing
Screaming something
About a home somewhere
To the trees.
We empty our pockets
Shamefully full
But its all we can offer
And it’s not enough.
She turns her head
Back to the car
And she fades from view
like a bruise
School stole you from me
It stole us.
And a World that existed
to only us
has died.
Like all of time.
We no longer ride the seasons.
Or watch the sun travel
Across our valley
one day at a time.
Through the kitchen window
You’ll see only me now,
packing your little blue bag
and
Trying to sneak in bits of love
Wherever I can,
In words.
Or A wet kiss that’s wiped
From a bigger cheek
With a gloved hand,
Before I hand you over
To the railings.
And I’m alone again
In the crowd
Left to wonder
If you will ever look back.
We are woken by the screams.
We run in two’s. Bare feet pounding
Over floor boards.
Pictures flashing
In our minds,
Of all the worsts.
We kick aside the remnants of last night
Crumpled towels and toy cars
Littered at our feet
Hands scrambling
like snakes, for the lights.
The smell hits us first
And we feel our breakfast, lunch, and dinner
Reappearing together.
But it’s got him first.
He’s standing up
Damp browed and wide eyed
Surrounded by his sickly creation.
In awe, at what his little body
Has produced.
And then come the words.
The shouts and the orders
And the questions
And the cries
And the struggle
of moving and handling and undressing
and washing away
and the cries.
And the cries
And the cries.
And together
We place him to bed
clean clothed and powdered
armed with tubs and tea towels
we never knew we had,
awaiting the next strike.
His little snores breaking through the silence.
In the night.
We hold each other with our eyes. Him hanging over me as I lay back on the foam bed. The gel painting my skin cold while the nurse smiles.
Then we all turn together and face the screen.
In a moment, we become three.
His hand slips over mine. Our fingers lace, connecting us through bone. The nurse pushes down hard. Our shape comes to life in waves of white, no bigger than a whisker.
Twelve weeks and two days the nurse says.
And he turns his head from the screen. His hand trembles in mine
It’s not your fault I say
You didn’t choose this disease
She wipes the gel with a tissue that feels rough and I pull my top down to my waist.
No need to book another scan I say
And she prints me off a picture
That I know I can’t keep.
We sculpted your face
With whispers
Under covered duvets,
Wet cheeked with love
Dreaming of the day
You would be made.
Eyes peeked
Through strands of damp hair
Bursting with love
And We knew Then,
That we were born
to create.
Tonight you held my head
when it was wet
with wild tears.
and you bathed the scars
and the wounds
fresh
with the blood of the night.
you took my screams
and my sadness
and the fear,
and you wrapped it up tight.
and you said
‘it’s going to be alright’.
and that was just enough.
