poems by Sam Ledger

Confessions VI.

In the emptiness of night I find you
through vast loneliness,
you give me a cold shoulder
on which I can rest my head
while you wife sleeps
in your bed,
and you in mine with all your words
and pretension
leaves me claustrophobic.

Regret is soon to find its fellow –
fear picked up the phone
spoke your name into the handset,
mimics my voice
wails as you fill me
with bitterness and spite.

I don’t even love you,
I don’t even lust for you.
Feelings of repulsion
catch in my throat,
with the rest of you
long and thick,
pushes my voice back down into myself.

What is your name,
I wake in the night forgetful
staring through muted darkness
at folds and creases on your face.
Far away under the weight of sleep
the labour of your breathing
scratches under my eyelids,
the tick I try to suppress
dances above my left eye.

Under my breath I whisper
declarations of empowerment,
tomorrow I will leave –
make myself a new skin
never rely on your
loving punishment to shape
the contours of my skin,
to bring back memories.

And I will haunt you
as you sit alone looking at her,
watching your family
wondering what wrong – error – omission
you made to bring about my
departure,
you will realise that you are
in love with me,
and only I shall know –
only I shall know
that I used you while you thought
you were using.

Confessions VII.

My cornice of dandelions and violets
has begun to weep,
wilt under the weight
of expectation.

I hear my mother…

What will I tell her
when you are gone,
buried under a weight of earth
feathers and flowers.

I have no answers.

They have left me.
Lost in a snowdrift
allowing it to chill me to bones,
tulips and forget me knots
cannot grow wild
under ice and grit and regret.

She would walk alone…

…forget my face,
and they couldn’t say
I had a halo,
not even a crooked one

They believe I wear
motherhood uncomfortably,
foolishly casual
tattered and seemingly careless.
I want
to hold her hand,
walk in the shades of a weeping willow,
lay amongst bluebells,
August sun catching the red in her hair.

I hear my Mother calling…

I have no answers.

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