Sentimental

I'm not sure whether this would be classified as poetry; it's more so a collection of ideas. Thoughts. They're disjointed, alike the format - I thought they'd go hand in hand.

Sentimental.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't,
But I am.

Watching you with them kills me.

Why are you making this harder for me?
Because every time I look up, your gaze meets mine.
I close my eyes; open them to see you're leaning in towards her.
You whisper something in her ear and she blushes.
I; the voyeur.

I disregard my thoughts and redirect my focus.
I straighten up and continue writing, pretending not to notice
How my pen presses harder into paper, or
How your eyes follow me.

For some time, I'm convinced you're forgotten.
Temporarily, I'm rid of the pathetic little girl
Who waits for you to approach me
When you're bored.

And I do forget.
And I notice another man's interest.
We speak. The man laughs and sneaks secret glances.
I think I don't mind. Slowly, I laugh too.
The man puts his hand on my arm whilst I-

"Hey, are you busy?"

I don't need to turn around to know who it is.

Reponding, I still can't stop
The nine year old smile
That forms on my face.

And now you smile too.

My jaw clenches; my fists curl.
My anger soars, indignantly.
I shove at the little girl within; she is not welcome.
I press a pillow into her face and she screams.
I tie her to a tree, ignoring her pleas.
I cuff her hands, swallowing the key.
Yet nothing changes.

Why do you do this?

Because every time you turn away, you break my skin with your blade.
Because every time you return with a smile, you wrench it out; the wound unhealed.

Stop.

Stop plaguing my thoughts. Stop infesting my mind
With your half true promises and
Your half hearted love.

Ha, Love. Sometimes I believe.
Other times I do not.

Catching my eye; you dare me to keep your stare.
Your mouth upturns; your face softens.
But then you whisper into her ear,
Kiss her cheek.
Your eyes never leaving mine.
I close mine; re-opening them now.

Forgotten.

Seeing You.

Seeing you reminds me of

Lips

Pressing against my skin.
I feel your smile.
They drag, left to right,
Soft; firm.
A pink blush left in their wake.
I bite my own. You chuckle and reciprocate.

I blink. You're staring ahead.
Your gaze does not waver.
Do you know, I wonder?
That seeing you now
Wrenches at memories of

Kisses. Along my neck, down my collarbone.
Gently taking the skin of my earlobe
Between your teeth.

My eyes do not leave yours
Burning into mine. Seeing you
Makes me feel like a pathetic little girl with
A high school crush;

small and powerless.

You take a step towards me
But my feet have fixed themselves
To the rocky ground beneath them.

Another.

Inside I cry
For my limbs to obey.

They do not.

And now, you're only
A hand's length away.

Suddenly I can't bear to look at you.

Another step.
Closer, now.

So close
That your breath caresses
My cheeks. Close enough to smell wisps
Of the aftershave you're wearing.

I lean towards you instinctively

No.

I feel your hand reach out
And my mind screams at
My body to move.

I must go now.
I have to go now.

I walk away.

I hate tragedies.

Nobody feels any pain
Tonight as I stand inside the rain
Ev'rybody knows
That Baby's got new clothes
But lately I see her ribbons and her bows
Have fallen from her curls.
Oh she takes just like a woman
Oh and she makes love just like a woman
Oh and she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl.


- Jeff Buckley, Just Like A Woman.

I absolutely loathe the cruelty of life sometimes.

I recently stumbled across Jeff Buckley, through several YouTube videos (as many of us do), and under the video, saw RIP JEFF. After a Wikipedia search, I found that he died in his early thirties when going for a recreational dive in a river - something he'd done before - only a tug boat came by this time. He wasn't on recreational drugs. He didn't feel suicidal or depressed.

He was simply in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

It makes my chest ache when people die, even more so when you think of how unique and talented they were, or could've been. To think of how their path has come to an end. I guess the fragility of life is something that I will probably learn to grasp over the next few years studying Medicine at university. But hearing about how doctors eventually learn to accept death, feeling nothing...I'm not sure how I feel about that. I suppose time will tell.

It's saddening to think that some people get up one day, leaving their homes, not knowing what will happen. Not knowing that what you said to a someone that morning would be your last conversation. I am angered at myself and at others, when we see the news on TV, when hundreds die in another part of the world, or someone goes missing, and we just accept it, before changing the channel over the watch a film. How we've become desensitised to what we see. Why, I wonder? A self defense mechanism? Or perhaps people have stopped caring.


I hope it is not the latter.


To anyone reading this, I ask you to spend a moment to think of those who are lost from the world every day and to be thankful for what you have - for the people in your lives. Or if you're sitting there, thinking of how you have nobody, I ask you to break from the monotony of life's routine. Live, to never regret.

After all, you have no excuse. Where are your shackles?

Additional note: here's the link to Jeff Buckley's - Just Like A Woman http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=isYhMK3tP0c. You won't be wasting your time.