Monster in my head

(NOTE: this is a work of fiction)

There’s a monster laid within my head who’s
ripping springs and chewing strings,
unravelling cords that bind my broken heart within.
Such a sneaky set of teeth it must possess!
to have the superpower
to so simply tear apart my strands of
horrible uncertainty,
and gnaw away the knots of fear
that’s fastened tight around my throat.

You’re not an ‘it’, I realise, but a paradox
of beauty in disaster; a breath in breathlessness –
unusual piece of messy art whose every bitten laugh is
drawn upon my messy mind,
eating up my every thought – except the one that wonders why

so eagerly you swallow all my bitter tears,
embrace my pain with yours; why you
reach beyond my chest and into tangled mess,
viewing all the cracks and crevices with a gentleness that
every other eye neglects?
Tell me why you lay so close when I am all but warm –
other creatures run away, why do you choose to stay?

But you bare your teeth at questions from my doubtful lips, and
enclose your arms about my frosty chest, till I’m melting

little by little, till I’m bare and warm and
ocean wide – unbound by ropes, and sailing into
vastness, away from narrow visions washed ashore.
Entranced I am by flaws that make you not monstrous but
daringly human – daring to love, daring to be loved.

(c) 2015 Katho28

You still don’t know.

You never knew. And you still don’t know.

There were those times when angry words erupted into screams and you thought that everything you ever said went unheard – but I was standing by you the entire time and I heard you. There were those times when you told me secrets in the dark and woke up with regrets of having ever opened your lips because you thought that the light would force me to see you differently – but it only allowed me to see you more clearly as that flawed yet uniquely beautiful person I always knew you to be.

You break your promises over and over again, but I still forgive you. You tell me to go away, but I’m still lingering on the other side of your door. You cry too many tears and you think that you’re the only one who’s hurting, but I’m still hurting from your tears. You blunder through life like a car that’s being driven drunk, but I’m still chasing after you.

You tell me not to worry. You tell me that you’re fine on your own. You tell me that I don’t have to say it all again, that you already know.

But you still don’t know. You may never know that everything I do for you, I do it out of love.

Carving faces

It is strange
how,

in mirrors
I was carving out
a bust
and paused in ponder over
what the shaping of my eyes,
and what the colour of my eyes,
and what the longing in my eyes,
and chipped and chipped
till I was bruised in one
and broken in the other,

yet
in blindness
did a friendship’s open hand
draw me from the hardened mould
to lids above my cheek,
to contours of their oval form,
to curtains brimming past the edge,
and drew and drew
till lashes up, mirrors gone,
and I myself appeared –
here I stand, here I am.
I finally understand.

(c) 2015 Katho28

True friendship helped to summon the one person I’d always tried looking for but could never quite find or see – me.

Cracks and broken tears

Many things in her life are uncertain, but she knows one thing for sure: she will never let anyone see her break.

She will never let anyone see her tears.

That is her unspoken promise.

For a while, she’s very good at keeping that promise. All she has to do is close her eyes and close her heart.

And then, he comes along.

He doesn’t try to break down her walls; he scales them instead. He is a terrible climber but that doesn’t stop him from trying over and over again, until one day, he reaches the top and falls to the other side with bloodied nails, scraped arms and a worn, rugged smile.

He doesn’t try to change her; he inspires her instead. He inspires her to accept every version of herself, even the versions she aren’t so proud of.

Little does she know that she inspires him too; that while he gives her purpose to accept and embrace, she is giving him purpose to live and love.

It’s true that what they have may not last forever – she bears witness to the death of beautiful things everyday, and knows that flowers will wither, sunsets will fade to darkness, and candle flames will eventually ebb to molten wax.

Yet she also comes to realise that perhaps what makes these things so beautiful is the fact that they won’t last forever, but the impression they leave upon us will.

Many things in her life still remain uncertain, but she now knows one thing for sure: love is beautiful.

And with that knowledge, she turns to him with broken tears in her eyes, only to see him watching her with the same worn, rugged smile as the one she saw tugging at his lips when he fell down from the wall.

Except, this time, she is falling as well.

This time, when she breaks, she is breaking into shards of happiness. This time, when she closes her eyes, her heart remains open, and all she sees is the light of a new promise emerging from the rubble of a broken one.