Thursday, 12 November 2015

Paper Wings. A poem by Tom Williams

I'm the last person to tell you I'm an angel but still I was given these paper wings and they came with a price.
A burden so heavy that I'm still unable to fly.
Every night I set fire to your house in my dreams; maybe one day I'll actually do it so I will finally look like a bad guy in your eyes.
Maybe then you will stop loving me and I can move on; and you can move on; and we can make this right.
And I know it's just a dream but I used to wish I knew what love felt like; but now I've had love, and now I've lost love, I wish that I never new it at all.
I hope that one day you can find love again.  And I can learn to love again.  And I will be happy; because we all deserve to be loved, like you loved me, and like i never could love you.
I always loved you; just not as deeply as you deserved, and i hate when people describe love as deep, like a razor blade cut up my wrist pouring my heart out into a cold kitchen sink.
Because it's not like that; love is full.  Like the days when im so busy that i dont get time to think about what the last six months might have held for us.
But thats what you deserve.
I know you were my sanity, and I know that i only pushed you away because I lost my mind.
But I never knew sanity and I cant share the burden; because my friends are more fucked up than I am.
So who is to say what is sane; when I'm fucked up and everyone else is fucked up.
But youre not fucked up .
And youre not like everyone else.  I just tell myself that you are; in the hope that I will stop loving you.
But still.
You called me your angel and made me wear these paper wings.  That could never fly.
And that came with a price.
And that price was my life.
By Tom