If you could, would you come

Back with me

To the places i once died?

Where my body

Overdosed and dizzy

Gripped by panic, heaving empty, burning, Unliftable

 lies.

 

Stand by me, stand by me, we are strong.

Dark red walls, heavy metal. Shriek of gulls, empty house shell.

Slide through a slew of crystals,

Thick dark makeup, squat juice, dubstep, britrock,vodka to

turkish car music,

Pots dull bumping,

Kitchen filling up with condensation

Grey carpets,

Room

Room

Room, purple and gold

canopy over your bed

Sticker, smiling

Face smiling on the glass

Cold glass cold window

Cold, touch the cold window

Single glazed, single glazed, this is a single glazed window

You can almost feel the outside through your fingertips, almost more than if you

Were to touch it, the cold glass is like a

Stethoscope,

'Please'' you think, 'please'

Feeling your fingers are touching the last living possibility that turns back on u

Like bile at the back of your throat reswallowed,

But then how is the air so pained, how is it so saturated with, with, with with

As though it were cells, air cells, each slightly leaking

Only slightly leaking their juices which they are full with, heavy with like

Water balloons like sagging breasts, only slightly leaking and collecting

Meaning there is a feeling, there is a sensing, there is a liquid

That conducts the electricity slightly. There is a conducting presence

That only conducts slightly, as it is slight, only

A leaking

But what it conducts is immense, so there is a feeling of lacking

But what it conducts isn't lack, it is the lack of what is conducted,

Or is it that lack is conducted?

that is the feeling that is conducted

As my fingers touch this window and

Open it, breathe the sounds, the air backgardens quiet amplified noises not city like

Not country like

Where are we

Ornamental gardens babars palace

A childrens book, another world

Make it be real, i wish

I could be in another world where perfection

Where images, ideas are real, where comfort is real and not always

Where comfort is real

Comfort is real

Comfort is real and not always

Illusory and harmful,

Illusory and harmful

Babar

 

 

 

She says

'How do i love you?

Let me count the ways.

I love you for not burying me completely.

I love you with the passion of a child, of a martyr. Of a mother.

Yes, a mother.'

 

And i will say, mother, now you can leave me. Rest in peace, i love you.

Now there is another.

 

 

Will you be that person?

And how

How will she rest in peace

When all she ever knew

Is loneliness and grief

Pining

How how do i let her go

I want to hold her

I want to hold her

I want to love her

I want to tell her she is perfect, beautiful, everything

She desires, misses

Believes

Everything she believes, believes in is possible

Tell her

Go back and tell her

We have to go back and tell her

 

- Love