Four line fore poetry

Dying of a breakage.
Suffering from a leakage.
Hurting from the top-
down. It wont stop.

I rock and feel.
Ill rail until sick.
I fell, like you.
and tore my shoe.

Avoiding people. Painting bliss.
Its you we miss.
And they’re ringing. ringing.
All we shared. Games.

You just sitting there,
waiting for us. “FAROUT”
That’s what you’d say.
Sitting round just talking.

Thats what you say.
It sound horrible. Horror.
Sharing secrets, the special.
My broken heart, anger.

Fury, feet just running.
Running from it all.
Until my soul wearies.
Snot running, rivers dripping.

My schooling life, me.
And all of us,
You contributed, giving always.
Always had time, worried.

I rememeber when, when…
When you ran. Remember?
At the botanical gardens.
I hid, you fretted.

Anything could have happened.
And when I left!
When I went away.
This year, I said.

And I said, and…
I said so much.
You cried to see.
To see me go.

I’m guilty, so sorry.
I promised, you “again”
You’ll see me again.
Can you promise dead?

What are you doing?
I ache, cry, throb.
Agony? No, not really.
I have a void.

A mistake was made,
Like slipping, a noose.
A perfect circle there.
Hanging, ink, plugs, pins.

Pins and needles, Crikey.
Alriiiight. Whack-a-doo.
you never liked tea.
“wanna play a game”

Everything made you cry.
Awkward, and in-touch.
Drinking like a ship.
Smoking like a chimney.

You always stayed afloat.
You and I talked.
Those late nights, awake.
Chatting, glinting eyes, static.

Gardening tomatoes, the chicken.
The cat. What happened?
And therapy, we together.
The meaning, and connection.

A cry for help,
not enough, and me?
Shallow, push and pull.
Said: The special one.

More cliches than sport.
I will run. Chew.
Spit, bite, regret, wish.
Wonder at why why cant you just leave me alone.
you have a big mouth.
I’m a piss head.
I’m a drunk.
Fuck you.
Leave me alone.
Shut up.
How are you going?
Di the pie.
I reckon.
And its all gone.
And I’m just here fucking numb, useless running coward that always wondered at the possiblility of easing and enjoying and making the continuation possible.
I didn’t.
I left.
I ran. And you didn’t have the foundations, my support.
Your job was done and now you’re a tragedy.
Another, a gonner. A statistic, my only one.
My anger and resolve and my regrets and sadness and fury and fears.
A pressure point of my mind, resounding, yellow like the blossoming sunflower.
Pulsing with hurt.
A seeded thought am I.
Distrupted and disturbed.
And I don’t want to do anything.
I don’t want to share.
I don’t want to talk,
or eat, or smile, or cheer up,
or get on with it.
This awareness, this dread is hell.
And the connections.
The sadness, the leanness.
The simple minded,
I know more,
I have had and known more than so many.
And less that far more.
In the middle of a dream,
a nightmare, a moment.
Freedom, resign.
Pointed hurting- and you said you wanted me to do this, and that, and now I will.
I’ll do them for you.
and nobody will know. This will be be the thing, deeply seeded, dark purple and green.
I’ll be greedy with this feeling, numb to the rest.
I will armour you where you couldn’t.
And I will grow, and I will spread and I will be OK.
I will break your father’s cycle.
I will look after myself and others.
Preach and love and share.
But not all.
My big mouth, my regrets I will hold.
Scar tissue.
Feelings of midnight-
oil for the lamps.
Red hot, chilli peppers rub on my eyes.
And that woman, who was she?
The singer.
I’ll listen to K D Lang.
And every time you listened to her, we knew.
I remember dad shouting “you think they don’t know”
And the secrets, and the shame,
and the tipping, and the hide and seek.
And now its all over.
Its all over everything.
And I don’t know what to say.
I’m still.
Shocked still.
There is no regeneration.
Raw and painful.
Stunned to silence.
And everyone is so genuine, and alien.
And I’m mute.
And and alone. As I want.
And I remember mum saying “you’re not going to marry her at Nigara falls are you”.
And I laughed.
Oh yes, she made me laugh more than she made me cry.

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