The Toy

I was your shiny new toy

You looked at me everyday

Through a window

Longing to hold me

And to have me

To own me

So I could be yours, and so yours only

But I was reserved for another

At the time

Yet still you’d visit me

In front of the glass

Daily

And everyday you’d talk to me

Hopefully, persistently

Until finally I ventured

From behind my window

Cautiously

No longer reserved for another

But you’d wanted me before

And I had watched you also, for many years

So you waited

As I placed myself on a shelf

And again you found me

You told me why you deserved me

Why I should become part of your collection

And at last I was yours

Your shiny new toy

Part of your collection

You held me

You had me

You owned me

And I was yours to play with

And played with me you did

We played

And played

Until one day

You no longer wanted to play

And you found another toy

Because I wasn’t so shiny anymore

So you threw me aside

with the rest of your collection

Too old and scuffed

To go back on a shelf

Or back behind a window

So I was left on a pile

with other relics of desire

That had been forgotten

And I understood

I’d never be wanted by you again.

 

My Uncles Magic Sticks

My uncle has these magic sticks

He tells me they make clouds

I tell all my friends and whomever I meet

It makes me feel so proud

He just puts the sticks up to his lips

Breathes them in and then breathes out

And before my eyes up to the skies

White puffs start to fly about

He’s my hero, I tell him, he’s my hero!

As I give him a kiss

I’m just so lucky! For who else’s uncle

Can do something amazing like this?

 

My uncle has these magic sticks

He told me they make clouds

I told all my friends and whomever I met

It made me feel so proud

But my mum tells me that these magic sticks

Have made my uncle very sick

Then she tells me that making clouds

Is not something that should make me proud

She tells me its actually a silly thing

For somebody, anybody to do

And that my uncle tried to make so many

His lungs turned black, from blue.

 

My uncle had these magic sticks

And they made him very ill.

So now I tell,

All my friends,

And whomever I meet,

That making clouds can kill.

Another World

I know

eventually

I need to let go of this world

I have spent almost 3 years

Of my life

Inside of

But I am afraid

As it is as much

A part of me

As the blood in my veins

And the flesh on my bones

And I am scared

Of the unknown

That awaits me

For this was once my only dream

And I used to believe

Dreams did not expire

But as the clock ticks

And time quickens

I realise

I was a fool

So now I must decide

Whether to move on

From this small

Yet significant

Of my life

Or to let go

Completely

Of this world

Of myself

Of everything

And avoid moving on

Ever again.

Red Flag.

I swam among a sea of red
But I was blind to the danger
And hope kept me floating
Towards an island
I’d never reach.
I was diminished by your ocean
But foolishly I swam
Hoping I would find you
But you were so high above me
In my mind
Looking the other way
And couldn’t see me trying
Or did not want to.
So eventually I sank
The red pulling me down
Barely able to breathe
Suffocated by your shadow
And deceived by my own delusion.