Have you seen the Lost Boys?

one. you've ruined all my songs

"to the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream." -- sylvia plath

*

i say, i sob the body electric
when the sky's grown dark like this.
(i) just want someone (anyone, please)
to kiss my tortured head
on that bench in the park, long, far away
in the dark, somewhere in the city
where we maybe were once ago.

come back to me
(i) come back to me again

and i'll hide in a hollowed tree
with branches soaking in silence,
my fruit rotting under my solemn, soiled feet.

worms will gather under my nails and between my toes
and i shan't care
when those webs fill my mouth and dust my lips; frozen
to part forever (and ever) in shock at the injustice
that they all did
their baby love.

oh i say, it was no sweet sapling taking root in the snow,
milky and blue as the days of you, oh so blue and born
for another (what was i with no one to call my own?)

and pray, will the poplars take my bruised face to look away --
purple as falling figs, might i sway my head (with you), heavy with mistletoe,
(which never saw a kiss) forgotten high up above the air and snow.

pray, might the weeping willow gather up my bones
in green gaping arms, so that our sobs are silence and rocks and stones;
they take me from those swooping eyes
that would lie to a crying child to soothe her sore, sounding mouth --

and perhaps the oak's boughs will take my eyes to look inward --
to hide away, hide from the world that's lost all its colour
(i don't want to see it anymore)
i don't care to see it at all.

(22/10/2017)