There turned out to be so many different keys to the different depths of me It was truly hard to know what it was possible for me to show Different friends reach different doors Different strangers peering through different windows
A glimpse… almost in focus a sweet taste here, a sour mouthful there the faintest sound of joyous laughter then the cool stream of tears rolling down as the image slowly blurs again
Even I found it hard, even I took years to add up every fraction to calculate if I was whole and I was worried there for a good long while
I never meant to be this way never meant to give so little away never meant to set that combination quite so randomly I could never really see who I was destined to be…
In the shining eyes of the girl below me lit by the dim glow of a Paris night I see the distance growing that I’ve been running from for so long
And there, I gasped lay by her side, and said “What have I become? Do I mean anything to you?”
Inhaling on a cigarette she looked at me, sideways and said “You have lost so much most of which you gave away drunkenly, or deliberately Trying to be something else but to yourself you’ll always stay a stranger in this wasteland”
And that’s me a stranger in this wasteland Yes, that’s me…
Thanks for reading this old poem.
Note: I’m going to post some older poems which I’ve never shared before over the next week or so. They’re all quite early in my writing and are flawed in all sorts of ways (aren’t we all) but I thought they might be of interest to people to see where I started. T.A. 18th June 2021.