I Can’t Grow A New Heart

kurt cobain baby

these stories, they come to me in dreams the first time I fell asleep since they told me you’ve fallen into flatline

I dream you

sometimes in colours, green and oranges, purples and blues, and not bleak nor dark, we are not in the shadows

in these dreams, our children they’re born. they’re not sucked to death, they’re not stillborn nor bled away

they live and we give

names to their innocent loving faces

the eldest has my eyes, her brother has your smile

in these dreams we’re not bitter

we’re not numb from pain

in these dreams you are standing tall

little daughter dances on your devoted steadfast feet

her brother clung to your arms, his head rests on your secure and sturdy shoulder.

he’s falling into another dream.

in these dreams, I dance with you under the chuppah

and you recite a long vow, a song we used to hum

before we went to sleep

about lovers

lost

and again,

found.

 

On birthdays that are wiser,

On Letters to Lovers Lost. 

 

Quietly Drift… Drift… Like the Wind Softly…

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drips on honeydew holy water new

icy breeze colourful rainbow rain, rain on me

don’t bite the bliss on an empty stomach

but ignore ignore, red flags or compliance

 

so wobbly a place you barely stand

filled with cracks you’re bound for heartbreaks

 

here we are and here i am

you go be you, i’ll stay and pretend

 

a friend that is not till the end

a ship that is slowly sinking

quietly drift drift like the wind softly

gone and forgotten, i’ll be