It’s nearly your birthday. I try to ignore it, my heart pounding. Every year I worry, someone will see it beating fasting, someone will notice the tear in my eye. I don’t see you. The last candle blown out long ago.
I stand, staring. Thinking of a kitchen in another house. Staring out a window with a different view.
I wish I could say I’m sorry. I wish you could hear my words. In the long dark hours before dawn I dream of you and apologise for the hurt I caused. It wasn’t enough. It’s never enough. I wake with regret. Thinking of you.
I sit alone. Light off, door closed. Listen to the drumming rain at the open window. A breeze in an empty room, passes through me, not touching, not pressing, just there. With me. I breath a little easier. I breath.
Morning silence, an unseen bird chirps alone. Grey skies stream through the window, the day a canvas for broken dreams.
as you colour, crayons sweepings, I dream of the ocean. The waves lapping. To and fro, in and out. A breath exhaled. A friend waiting. The salt on my tongue. Bitter.
Some nights I miss you. Some nights I don’t care. The moon smiles wide in the darkness. Full of you tonight.
I dial your number. A number I can’t forget. The phone slips through my hands. I hold it close to my face. Mouth dry, eyes stinging. My heart thudding in my throat. Each ring a shock. Each ring a scream. The connection rings, rings, and rings. A corridor of memories unanswered. I let the receiver fall, breathe again. Hard. Hurting. Drowning in you.
Cold. Grey. Yet stone eyes crack. Crumble with a tear.
Silent night. Winter skies. In the darkness, the sparks shine. Blazing bright. Leaping wide. Black fading. Silence shattered. In the cold we watch you fall. A shower of starlight dancing. The world alight. On fire. We watch like statues, catch the star dust in our eyes.