Untraceable

The clock on the mantelpiece stopped
keeping a steady time
the minute they showed up at the door.
It was like the rain and the lightening
had fused together
to burn my soul to ashes.

I tried to count your footsteps
from the puddles that lined
the front path,
but puddles dry with ease
at the first glimmer of warmth,
and your footsteps
never were very traceable.

Your room, so flamboyant,
the sharp pink always did hurt
my eyes, but goodness would I kiss it
and embrace it,
just to see you in the background once again.

As a baby, you were a creature from
another world.
The smell of your skin and those
fine hairs that were touching on invisible
gave me the kind of comfort I did
not know was embraceable; ceasing
to exist.

(for the first time in my life,
I knew perfection had been attained.)

My bitten nails, swollen lips
like battered jelly
bring no consolation.
The clock stays still, my eyelids halt,
not wanting to blink in case one second
is missed.

We fit together, like a cauldron to
the cackle of a witch.
Please my darling,
find your way home.