Cold Days

by Neil Marsden   Jan 18, 2008


You called today on one of your ' Official Visits ' to our home.
The place where tempers had been silenced, and passions were long spent.
A special place within my heart that held me in place.
I kissed the lipstick traces on your cup after you had left.

Throughout your stay I wanted just to hold you,
To tell you that despite all, my hatred was in check.
You came to find out when I would surrender our home to you,
I just wanted you to say that I could stay.

Each time I closed my door I knew that the clock was counting,
And that the chances of such simple actions would soon be gone.
I walked into our garden and grieved for all our plants,
I would not see them bloom again after all.

Most of me had already gone when you took our Son away.
All that remained were goodbyes to the security of home.
When all these familiar comforts and memories,
Were soon only to be shared by you.

I leave my stain on all things here, to linger on when I am no more.
You may just recognise my smell some dark cold night,
As your own lonely tears drench our pillows,
Still soaking wet from mine.

I had loved you so much in your absence,
And gained such hope from anything touched by you.
You will never know how much a trace of you could comfort,
This heart without a home.

I will soon knock upon my own front door,
To enter as a guest, this place vacuumed of my memory.
To no longer boil our kettle to give you warmth.

In this place where I once roamed freely, naked in the night.

Neil Graham Marsden.

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