Tagged: loss


The sun’s riding high
Punching holes in the sky
Apex to horizon burns red

And my throat scratches dry
As I sit here and try
To remember the words that she said.

“You’re the best I could hope for,
You treat me so well
You’re all that a girl ever needs”

If she really meant that,
If those words were true,
Then why the hell did she leave?

City of ghosts

I thought I saw her yesterday.
Can’t be sure though;
It’s been almost seventeen years.

It certainly looked like her though.
Blonde hair, tied back,
And that little half-sneering smile.

Maybe I was just letting my
Mind fill in blanks;
Like I wanted it to be her.

And then I noticed something else:
She was pregnant.
Then – a deeper realisation…

Surely, this is what women want?
And now I know
My own path will never cross hers.

And don’t come back…

Sitting on my own again,
Staring at the floor
And it seems like fifty years ago
That you walked out that door
So I try to stifle back the memories I can’t ignore,
And I think of all the fun we had
In the time that came before.

Remember when we said we’d build
A fortress in the trees,
And we’d sit beside an open fire
Reading poetry?
And you’d tell me that you’d never met a person quite like me,
And I thought that I had everything
To make my life complete.

But it all falls down;
Should have known it wouldn’t last
And I’m stuck here all alone again,
Dwelling on the past.
It all falls down,
It wasn’t meant to be,
But i’m sick and tired of sitting here
With no-one to talk to but me.

And every week we’d hit the town,
Dance the night away,
And we’d never give a damn about
What other people say,
But then something changed and our love began to slowly decay.
The cracks had started showing,
And the rot was here to stay.

Then it all falls down,
It was never going to last
And I find myself alone again,
Thinking of the past.
It all falls down,
It wasn’t meant to be,
But i’m starting to get used to
Having no-one to talk to but me…

Sitting on my own again,
Staring at the floor,
And i’m smiling thinking of the day
That you walked out my door,
And I think of all the pain and guilt and misery endured,
And how the good times that we had
Were outweighed by the poor.

Remember when you got so drunk
You threw up on my floor?
Or the time you spent my cash on clothes
And still you wanted more?
I’m still paying off the bills from all the things you couldn’t afford;
Told the debt collectors where you live,
Hope they’re knocking at your door.

So it all falls down,
I’m glad it didn’t last
And I hope that I can now escape
The nightmare of my past.
It all falls down,
But i’m not feeling blue,
’cause although i’m on my own again,
At least i’m not here with you.

That Fortress in Ruins

That fortress in ruins

That fortress in ruins stood once tall and proud,
Its huge gates flung open to welcome a crowd
Which never arrived. But the baron inside
Still waited the rest of the day.

The gates had been opened when news of the throng
(Which gathered in joy at the next fort along)
Arrived in the morning – a reasonable warning –
So where were the visitors now?

The morning went by, then the day, then the night.
The days stretched to weeks, and there still was no sight
Of any of those whom the baron supposed
Would care to share in his riches.

His smile long since faded, his expression grim,
The baron decided to let no-one in.
The gates were then slammed; “The people be damned!”
And the fortress was slowly forgotten.

But many years later a traveller saw
The fort from the roadside, and chose to explore.
“I’m in need of a bed,” the traveller said,
And the doors very slowly cracked open.

For seven long years she was gaining his trust,
For three of those years they both sated their lust
Which slowly would grow into love, and he’d show
Her the treasure he guarded so fiercely.

The treasure shone golden and glinted with red,
Pulsating so softly; the baron had said
That it was alive – it glowed from inside
And the traveller smiled as she held it.

But one day in turmoil the baron awoke
His fortress on fire, the room filled with smoke.
His treasure was smashed, and he realised at last
That the traveller girl had betrayed him.

Alone in the flames of his once-mighty home,
The baron stood tall and let rage, for years honed,
Manifest in a cry which could tear down the sky,
And he let the once proud fortress burn.

What’s left of the fortress still stands on the hill,
The treasure sits rotting; charred, black and still.
But the baron remains, alone with his pain,
Face bitter, resentful and cold.

All roads lead to Rome. Even the ones we never took…

Sometimes I sit and I consider consequences of actions I never took. I think of the myriad paths I never followed, and I wonder where I would be now if I had taken some of them. I think about theories of infinite possible universes where all possible actions are played out, and then I start to postulate that if such a thing as fate exists, then those unimaginable infinities must surely converge at some point. I wonder if God has a game plan…. then I remember that she’s a crazy lady, and even if she did, she certainly wouldn’t stick to it.

Herein are described some of the what-ifs, should-haves and never-weres which I have been thinking about recently (in roughly chronological order).

What if I’d avoided Gemma Kauffman? You know the story. You’re in high school, and there’s that girl you like. The one you have to have. And you think that she likes you too; at least she gives off that impression just enough to keep you interested, to keep you on the hunt. Heh, “on the hunt”, that’s a joke. I was the prey all along. So for years I chased after Gemma. A few times I sort of caught her too. A kiss here, a lost evening there. But as you probably know, those girls you chase after in high school, they see you as playthings. She was the first girl I loved, and the first to break my heart. She got mad when I eventually decided to force myself away from her. Like she only started really wanting me when she realised she couldn’t have me (crazy ladies – I worship one, remember?). So what would have happened if I’d have decided from the outset that I had no interest in her? Would my school life have turned out differently? What if I’d listened to Lucy Dickinson, when she told me right at the start that Gemma was bad news? What if I’d actually told someone, anyone, that actually I really liked Lucy more than anyone else?

To be honest, I don’t think much would have changed. I’d have still been the dumb 17 year old without a clue what life was about, and besides, after I went to university I’d have left my school days far behind…

So what if I’d decided to stay in Leicester that night? That weekend when I was 18 and I caught the train back to Coventry to see Vicki. What if I’d never hooked up with her? Well that would have made a huge difference. You see, Vix and I spent years together. I never fully put roots down in Leicester because I was back in Coventry every weekend to see her. But I never had time to properly put roots down in Coventry either. So when, years later, Vix left me and moved out, I was suddenly left alone in a house I couldn’t afford, with years of my life seemingly stolen from me. But if I’d have stayed in Leicester that weekend it would have been different. I’d have probably stayed single. I don’t know what that would have meant, but I DO know that I would have had time to adjust and develop, and not feel like the world had been ripped out from under me when she left…

What if I’d not quit drinking when I was 16? I’d have become my father… That’s something I don’t want to think about.

So the final musing is this: What if I had never endured the heartache, pain and suffering that I’ve been through? What if I’d made “the right decision” every time? What if nothing bad had ever happened. The only thing I can say for sure is that I would not be the person I am today.

Our suffering defines us. Take strength from that.