Broken Clocks
We’re Here.
Again.
The dream
or
Reality?
Connections strong, intimately felt
Eyes wide open, eyes wide
shut.
Visions
I’ve dreamt for,
for months, years, days.
You’re actually here.
Are we alive?
Are we dead?
Are we
pretending
until it comes to its end?
If feels like
home
when there’s no one else
trying to come inside.
But,
there are always people knocking at your door.
You
welcome it.
My home is for
me.
Not,
for “I love three”
How do you keep
someone in your life?
Keep them
Alive
When it’s never been the
right time.
Time
ran out the second the clock
ticked.
It’s always been
a miss.
A misunderstanding
of each other’s wants
and needs.
Can’t it just be us
please?
This time.
But, time is never
on our side.
The person who brought me
air, when I didn’t care
almost killed me
in the end.
With just one bullet
“Let’s be friends"
Friends,
lovers,
or nothing is what I repeat to myself.
And yet, being lovers first
to friends
has left me with nothing.
I’ve felt love,
ecstasy, warmth as we laid
side by side.
When it was gone,
and there was another
at your side, I felt
abandoned.
Like the death of my dad,
I mourned you.
But you were alive.
I didn’t erase our past,
I put it away. In your
box.
There wasn’t a key.
Maybe
because I always wanted it be
opened.
One day.
Instead, of it being you to lift the lid.
I surprised myself when
I
peeked in.
There were feelings.
Inside
Whether open or
closed.
That box holds everything to my soul.
It’s okay, I broke in
Without a key.
The box is mine.
It’s been here all of the time.
I’ll do
just fine.
Love doesn’t always mean
happiness.
It brings
sadness too.
And I can’t ever do two.
My tears come.
They’re here.
Always from just one eye,
when inside cries, and
there aren’t any words coming
out of my mouth.
This hungry
mouth.
Hungry lips
go silent.
My hand sometimes is
the only thing that can
speak.
So cheers to us, for a love
that is
sinful and sweet.
Accepting that we will
never be
two that is one.
That
fantasy is done.
A love
with a
broken clock.
