When God Discovered He Was a Lie

(WIP)

So you’re telling me, right,
that this was all just a lie
to fit some grand design?
To make your lives easier
to deal with at the end of the day?

But I have been here for you ,
since before the first day
and then some before –
all to make you a member of my home.

Well no, I won’t go.
Invitation declined,
I’ve given you my all,
I’ve put in my time to make myself
in the image of you.

After all these years together –
after all the memories created.

I made you what you are today,
moulded you into something new.

This is a phase, I assure you,
I know you, I always knew you
better than you thought you knew yourself.

This is all I get, this
glaring stare because you
stole my words and rearranged them into
something hateable.

I won’t go.
I refuse to move
until you get it into your system
that I loved you enough
to put up with you.

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Thoughts borne by greed

Thoughts borne by greed
result in selfish acts.
But that’s all right, if that’s what you want.

We sit across,
words stalled, paralleled
by a table between.

I nod and sway,
but I cannot comprehend what you say.

My two week notice,
printed and new.
Please don’t think me too
harshly, for this is what I must do.

Actions are frozen
as thoughts, combat and meld
into a rapid frenzy –
a creation of no name.

This is the final warning,
the final strike
but my arms are frozen
by a mind too quick.

These Postmarked Thoughts

 

I talk to you always,

No matter how far away you go.
I end up postmarking these thoughts,
all of these thoughts,
mindlessly to you.

Can you hear them?
Feel them?

If they aren’t sent to you,
then where do they go?

Those endless stream of
unconscious and conscious
thoughts, mixing
and mingling
with scenes from the day –
where do they go?

Not yet have I looked down to see a
returned package, wrapped up in
sellotape and a note attached reading:
Caution,
go back.
Address unknown.

So where do they go?
If they don’t go straight to you?

Through the air, to the stars,
through the wind to your heart.

Where do they go,
where do these constant, never-ending thoughts go?

A Thanks to Alcohol

Half of my friends are married,
the other half engaged.

Now I don’t know about any of that,
nowt about the struggles of a relationship,
the compromises made between.

But I sure do know how
to drain another drink.