1 4 3,
A code, lovers lived by.
One that never came to me
Something I could never be.

8 letters, just 8! My darling!
I couldn't hate it more,
How inefficient must one be
To use 8 letters 1-4-3,

This enlightenment I desire,
Wouldn't suffice words so short,
I shall spend 8 novels and me, entire,
Just to moor my boat on your port.

And then the world could be,
You, me and 8 letters in 1-4-3

My tongue is prisoner to my teeth
Lips pursed tight enough to hold
Back words I do not mean
Blooming from hurt unaddressed

Yes, you are right
I mean this not facetiously
But could I be right too?
Is there a middle ground to breach?

Your years hold wisdom I am yet to seek
I cannot share the fruit from your labour
Though your plate overflows
And you offer from an open palm

My frustration is my own
Thank you for your interest
Though it comes delivered wrapped
In paper that cuts my fingers

How do I know you?
Where have we met?
Those eyes, that gesture
Paths crossed, this I bet
You avoid my glance, I linger
Please do not think I stare
This familiarity
Becomes too much to bear

I endeavour to move closer
Your limbs twitch away
I do not mean to startle
But may I ask your name?
You do not want to know me
I wonder why this is
My advances trigger
Good will goes amiss

The moment arises
I steal your time alone
I ask “why do you shrug me”
You say “you are the home,
I ran from fervently
No stake in to return”
A ghost of you would converse
The present you has learned

i feel little bits
of the universe
crumble around me
feel like i am stuck
in rewind
watching the same movie
over and over, every
terrible thing
while i cook dinner
clean the kitchen
take out the garbage
listen to the headlines
one punch, another
feeling like a lace tablecloth
laid across a landmine
and i'm realizing
there are so many ways
to be undone
to be brought to your knees
to do your best
to be your best
and to lose it all
anyway