Your Rations

I’ve become a gluttonous animal

fed on my own delusions

that what we had remains in tact

and hasn’t been fading into the past,

-

my body freezing,

trembling

outside of the warmth of you.

-

I wait, and I wait, and I wait

and I swallow each frustration

until my stomach revolts and returns

every anger back to my sad, weeping mouth.

-

I nurture this looming shame,

I water it with pains again,

I water it walking through the rain

on my longest journeys

to meet with your shadow,

forever just a little ahead,

only ever out of reach,

-

the string of the balloon

drifting upwards,

just untouchable,

soon to be lost forever,

adrift.

-

There’s nothing much left to explain,

my verbose explanations exhausting

like sharpened nails upon a chalkboard

to the most delicate ears of a newborn child

-

so I sit and I stew

in my tormenting silence

and I reach out to you,

but it’s emotional violence.

-

I recreate a past that passed

an unknown length of time ago

and watch as my whole life erodes

-

the lactic acid

builds so slow.

-

You turn a distant light on,

but each step closer

it pulls away an extra two.

-

I sprint towards it, helpless,

but I’ll never quite reach you

-

and that anguish will eat me

just as I devoured

the tepid rations you surrendered

with then unrecognised reluctance.