Credit: Jeremy Bishop via Unsplash
Words of many inked,
But, from yours I hide and shrink.
Afraid to glow,
Afraid of your caustic blows.
So, terrified you’ll destroy a flicker of hope;
Words can deconstruct and maim,
Sometimes I have to hide the truth; I dimmed my light.
Become a shadow within the spotlight —
For you, I became a nameless recollection.
Yet, your eyes as liquid pools,
Painted us both with nothingness.
Your nose lifted, and that’s all she wrote —
I’m me; I don’t know all she can be,
But neither do you.
Last call, the last bell, twilight’s peach-slice forgone.
Last call for excitement, the lure of possibility.
And your slate-eyes are frozen —
They frost as if I’m a ghost,
As if to say, “Peer anywhere but here;”
What a lark!
My self-confidence spurns your words,
I am what I am; I’m a puzzle in progress.
Don’t let your eyes linger, their weight withers life,
I’m worthy, but not of your walls.
I’m in Aslan’s land of tranquility,
Once fictionally beautiful,
Now, I’m far too real.
For if you were generous and kind,
Your plaster mask would’ve cracked;
You would not have stilled to stone,
Now, I’m the sheen of a reflection —
A looking glass.
My liquid eyes brim as you sneer;
Crying because you’re lost,
To the whims of he who does not see,
All that is not his, having chosen wrong.
A raging blizzard awaits in ice:
Your orbs flat like a shark choking on his meal.
But I’ve moved on to white-sand shores,
Adventures beyond the Caspian Sea,
No predators here — their reign‘s passed.
I am who I am,
And you don’t know me.
Not enough to judge or defame.
But, I know your perception,
In your reactions, your muted words.
If you can’t accept me, than we’re irrelevant;
Our potential was meaninglessness.
I’m free of your winter-soul,
No inquiring words, no gallant gestures;
Back to your White Witch,
Only the chill of your indifference lingers.
Your an ice-house locked,
I’ve tossed your key into the orchid-waves;
A smidge of possibility blighted,
You were too proud to peer below.
To catch the wisp of a faeries glimmer,
To catch a constellation in your hand.
You’re frozen, and I would’ve burned you;
I’ve an eternal beach, sand blazing my feet,
Where the waters charm.
Beyond to the Lion’s reign I wander,
Our finger tips graze a milia-second
But that’s all there is —
Our words inked in this poem.
I fade into the twilight and you sink, digress into —
Mud, tar-black oil, as a dinosaur.
You travel asunder,
And these mythical shores,
Separate our paths;
©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.