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Cíara McNamara Sep 2014
I wore your clothes tonight –
A futile testimony of love, or misery.
Because they have long lost the scent of you
Now they only reek of me, my lonely company.

I still knock at the pea green houses door,
Always waiting a moment more
For you to come a calling, telling me of “pony”
Or declare lovingly my stupidity.

I tell myself you’re still out gambling,
Or buying ice cream  because you’ve won some pounds.
The door to the pea green house is never answered,
Nor are forgotten candles left alighting.

I know you are in the place
You always prayed you’d be,
and I know this makes you happy.

Soon the pea green house will be home again,
Never again to you or me though –

Your house is sold nan –
I can’t call anymore,
Or live my euphoric fantasy.
You are not gambling, knitting, deaf or any other

You’re dead,
even though you’ll never really be dead to me.
Cíara McNamara Sep 2014
I must admit – to other perfect strangers
Never to you, the stranger who wasn’t really stranger,
I was only stranger to you –
Your game was impressive last night,
Your wit and charm, like the prince himself
Your efforts most admirable, quizzing my friends
Then to recite the most beautiful, perfect poetry to me

That star-like glitter in your eyes, like night sky
Caused a secret smile and sudden thuds of my heart.
I know by evening end, when drunken bodies worshiped other guests
And I was still ignoring you, not hard to get, just leaving you a fool
You must have cursed me – or seen me as an excessive ***** –
Slight apologies for not bowing and giving you simple bliss.

Truth is – I desired you so desperately –
Every inch of your imperfect body – all the morsels of your soul
To invite you in and worship you, love you and lay with you
‘Til morning would steal our drunken pleasings
And leave us with awkward reckless, though perfect memories –

You were no stranger to me though,
And it cleft my heart and darkened my soul that I was stranger to thee.
When we were sixteen we were so in love –
Or so future revealed, I with you – you with other girls
I lay on your floor shedding tears, like an animal hairs
Begging you to still love me, to entertain my pleading even.

So last night – as cruel as it is
While you forgot the many kisses I had traced on your lips
And the stories I drew on your spine –
I smiled because even though I was stranger,
Finally -
it was you, whom begged for me.
Cíara McNamara Sep 2014
I am so obsessed with you,
I wanna smoke you right
down to the filter,
'til there's nothing left.
Cíara McNamara Sep 2014
The first time that I touched you –
Caressing my hand along the bare curve of your spine
While your tongue danced behind my teeth
My heart flitted, skipping a solid beat.

This drunken adventure has left my heart confused
A misremembered experience of ecstasy,
Or have I unleashed a secret that I’d always buried so deep?
Maybe this is why no man has ever been enough for me.
Cíara McNamara Sep 2014
Once, when I was too lost being me
Being foolish and falling into the allures of youths stupidity
You stood there, always looking out for me,
waiting for me to mature, complete my phase of idioticy.

That day never came, I know you call me a ***** when I’m not near –
I know there is a deep and permanent scar of me on you – in you,
I would be sorry that I’m not what you wanted me to be –
honestly that apologies a little empty, void of empathy

I am sick to death of the blame falling on me – the user-***** and heartless soul-sucker
You were waiting for someone you created in your mind – I have always been me.
I have a love for you deep inside, of course of a different kind

It’s not my fault you can’t see that you are in love with an idea of a woman
One that’s never been real ,only aspects of her are reflected in me
I’m playing out my youthful stupidity now – because I never had a chance before
I told you from the start to let it go, why you won’t, I don’t ******* know.
Cíara McNamara Sep 2014
I failed my mother – she failed me first.
All through childhood I held your hand as you wept –
You sighed and cried and denied a mothers love.

I was twelve when I sliced my first cut –
I weaved artistic patters all over my arm,
Each hack felt like a distorted piece of sympathy.

You have been cured for many years –
The disease was just passed, unquestioned to me.
You have never asked, or even glanced twice.

Last night I saw you crying –
Your friends’ daughter had cut – it was a tragic devastation.
Everyone was making plans, dinners, lunches, supportive hugs.
You went to help – to empathise like her mother never could.

I have never punished myself for attention,
It’s a sad and sick release from my insanity – for me.
You birthed me and gave me life, fed and clothed my pathetic body.

I know there is so much that I can never repay –
I know I failed to make you happy when I was young –
But why do you give this girl a mother’s love??
When all I have are forced hugs -
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