The jig is up, the jacket’s off,
The sigh, cause and effect.
Ask me all you want, you know I’d never answer honestly.
Cos yes, maybe it was what you said that made me do it.
And if you see them, maybe it’s the only way to talk,
The only way you’ll listen without interrupting,
When I try improvising a verse together.
Cos I’ve never tried to speak about this before.
Something’s happening molecularly;
An absolute dissolution of my entire being.
People are closer then ever before,
But when they are, they don’t smile like before.
It used to give me a sense of purpose,
To give people the means to smile.
But people started to ask what I wanted too,
Now I’m at a loss for words.
Maybe what I want; you can’t give.
The fulfilment, the direction,
Something to put on my tombstone.
The support, the first response,
When the mind turns on itself.
The control, the peace,
As I learn to maintain myself.
It’s not fair to expect that from you.
He asked “then what can I give you?”
And it felt like a few seconds extended to hours.
I just nestled into his arm, as we lay on the settee,
Put my feet back in the blankets, as his cat lays on my lap.
Then it dawns on me the answer is: “Nothing.”
You’re just a spectator in the event called: Me.
You can’t be my hero, my mediator, you’re sort off; nothing.
Of course it doesn’t feel good to say that,
Plus I couldn’t even say no one else could be those things for me.
It really just… Depends
But for now, if you’ve a roof to cover me,
And there’s still a heart to occupy,
With a shit take away to fill our bellies
Maybe for now, that’s enough.
Sebastian Noël
Domestic Poetry 