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George Arkley Jan 2013
Often I look to the water
And I do not see my reflection anymore,
The surface ripples in the breeze
Allowing me to know something’s underneath,

Even when distorted
I see him daring me to take the forfeit,
I continue to search
For what it submerged,

But all I see is him. Blue eyes
Staring at me, tempting me to break,
The pain is bundled inside of me
Like the dark secrets of this lake,

The moments I shared with him
Start to seep out the cracks,
Trickling out of my eye
Like a rusty leaking tap,

A leaf stirs the water
And I cannot see his eyes anymore,
My frustration rattles like a breeze
Until my true despair scuttles back underneath.
George Arkley Jan 2013
Often I walk away, leaving him alone,
I watch the pain-tightened screams
And the echoing punches
And the tear.

You never let two escape; just one.
The water glimmers under your eye,
Reflecting my handy work,
Only this time I don't regret it.

That one droplet holds my world,
It slips down your cheek,
Memories of us begin to fail,
Then it reaches the brim of your lips,
Curving around, leaving a trail,
My happiest memories slide from grasp,
And then it falls.

The water thuds to the the floor,
My world hints a shatter.
But I tried
I tried to care
I tried to need
I tried to try
But I didn't work.

No matter how hard I try,
The tear will never lie.
George Arkley Jan 2013
I close my eyes:
Blood trickles down my childhood memories,
Torn flesh rips my innocence apart,
Thick grey skin smothers my future,
And the eyes…black beady eyes glaring at me,

Daring me, whispering to me
Come in the water. Get your revenge.
I won’t hurt you. You hurt me,

I force the words away,
Pushing them, forcing them out,

You know you want to,
The blood drowns my heart,
I can’t breathe! My lungs spurt red,
Metallic death pools in my mouth,
I want to be sick, I can’t be.

My body jolts. Head snaps to the right,
I hear the crunch, the breaking snap of my bones,
The waves break. But the teeth don’t,
They squeeze my wrist, stealing my hand,
Blood captures my vision,
The water explodes in red,
Murkiness is around me…
And grey skin…black eyes…one fin.

My eyes burst open. Just like my artery did,
There’s no grey skin or black eyes,
Only blood seeping down my right hand,
My only hand. The other?
The ocean stole it. The shark stole it.

I can’t bear to look at the stump that remains,
So I close my eyes and the whole memory repeats
Once again.
George Arkley Jan 2013
Currents move the water.
Squirming, snaking and slithering
Through the depths till they reach the surface,
And then the gushes of air come,
Plucking the currents from peace
To force them forwards,

Another current swipes,
And another crashes,
Another burns with power,
And another dives through the centre,
The wind moulds the currents,
Sculpting the water to shape,
Until finally a ripple forms,

The gales flood over the crinkles,
They drag and try pierce the perfect folds,
Making the swan into an ugly duckling,
The duckling rises to its feet,
Excessive flesh flying away
Into the moist air,

The wings flap,
It stretches its legs and neck,
More impurities flicker off,
Brown feathers fade,
The beak sharpens,

Currents, gusts and ripples
All bundle into one,
The swan extends its wings fully,
And the water crashes.
Remains of the stunning creature tumble behind,
White foam and twizzling tides are left,

They reach the shore,
Swamping the sand in energy,
Clawing the helpless pebbles off the beach,
And retreating back to the ocean
Where more swans are formed
Endlessly
George Arkley Jan 2013
They ask me what I see,
What I see when I'm dreaming,
What I see when I'm listening,
What I see when I'm writing,
But I don't see; I understand,

I understand how minds work,
I understand how hearts work,
I understand how my world works,
But I don't understand them.

Why can't people accept it?
Why do they need to know why?
Why do they want to know?
But they don't want to know why; they want to know what.

If I see their futures,
If I see the dead,
If I see words before me,
But I don't see; I understand.

So when they ask, what do I see in you?
I don't reply. I smile,
Because when I dream,
And I listen,
And I write,
You know what I see?
What I've always seen:
You.

— The End —