40–one

I am very quiet.
The noise in my head is loud enough.
Tipping on my toes around.
To not wake the sleeping monsters of giving up.
Holding back tears, to not regret.
And letting the rain do it for me.
I am not good at searching for solace.

Again, I am scared of letting go.

Best to walk down, before I jump these 10 floors.
These thoughts come easily.
Making it easy to take a life.
And since I know, easer to stay alive.

In the distance shadows move.
Watching my own following yours.
I write for you and burn the words one by one.
Can you trust me now?
Just step off the stage, silently.

Playing with words, playing with life, making reality mine.
I wish you could sing for me, a consoling song.
Only, I hear a quiet laugh.

Not nasty, not belittling.
Full of sorrow though.
Not knowing what to do.

Don’t worry for me, when I am depressed.
Cry for me when I quite and alone.
Cover me.
Come for me.
Cuddle me.

When I pull out my needles, to tattoo my bad side, visibly.
Writing in fine script over my tender skin.
Take the needle and help me writing your name.
Fingers on my spine.
Delicately following this line.

I was not what you expected and you gave up to see what I showed.
For now.

I want to read you all I wrote.
Shouting it out into the darkness that surrounds us.

I still taste your first kiss.
Mixed in with cigarettes.
And poetry.

Words to take your pretty face and smudge it with love.
I am devastated.

Quietly looking over to you.
Sitting down and reflecting light from a screen at night.

I am so hungry for your words.
So hungry for your touch.
So thirsty for help.

My shadow touches your skin all over again.
Electrifying.
Perhaps a little terrifying.
A flirt is a promise.
Did you forget?

I loosen the screws on my thumbs that held down the scale.
Need to loosen myself a bit more.
Loosen my head.
Unscrew it.
Throw it off.

I wish to hear you don’t feel nothing.
But I only hear the air.
Emptying a space between here and there.


As preceded by 1, 20, Twenty-two and followed by 40–one

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