The Symbol

We build from the bottom,
placing ornaments where we think best,
trying to achieve the perfect balance,
aspiring to make something elegant.

We adorn it with artificial light
and wrap the body in silver-lining.
We elevate a woman, a star,
and we ask she symbolises substance.

Weeks pass and the beauty of it fades,
as trinkets sag and lose their shine.
The arms which supported so much promise,
brown and limp to the floor.

The silver-lining feels it's snap
and it gently unravels.
The light slowly fades away,
extinguishing entirely in places.

The symbol changes,
to something different,
but no less graceful.

Last Night's Nightmare

Closing time,
the door gently shuts behind you,
stranding you alone with no light.
Your voice has left,
and the syllables sound wrong.

where are you?
where were you?
is this you?

You reach for your pocket
and pull the pieces from it,
a shattered clue emerges.
You breathe help,
but the silence doesn't break.

who are you?
what is this?
is it good?

It did it's job,
it made you this way,
this is what you planned.
You could rebuild
and make the mistake.

Do you want to?
How will it go?
Is it wise?

You move towards
where you think it might be,
but you've never been sure.
You hear a voice,
but you know it isn't yours.

Yours has been lost.

Dangerous Illustrations

She was a rumour brought to life
in that the world finally made sense.
The lies she had told swelled with truth
and a new hope permeated them.

The boys she had never actually met
but liked to promise just that to
could only laugh at everything,
almost everything, come to light.

She had arrived in their lives as
a hopeful reminder of past contentment.
Her distance, a bittersweet play on perspective:
"This is what happiness would look like,
if it was very far away."

Despite this, her contagious phraseology
and the dangerous illustrations she drew
played on desire and tempted them to believe
she was something she did not know how to be.

Although not without blame, in her way
she was innocent, not understanding
the true length of her reach.
She needed them to invest in the deceit.

Lie to me, she would whisper.
Lie to me like it is the only real truth.
Lie to me, she seemed to plead.
Lie to me like it is the only real truth
there has ever been.