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Spark

Epilogue of a First Love

By Clara MalaussènePublished 6 years ago 2 min read
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Steamed Windows, Tangled Arms and Legs and Necks

The spark is well hidden my love

just like you taught me.

It's tucked in safe,

for no one to see

and no one to find.

You were right about my smile

I shouldn't be so kind

Now it feels like that cigarette-burn-shaped scar

on your back,

you did tell me it still burns.

And there was so much I would have loved to say but

by the look in your grim eyes

I knew all the those things you wouldn't tell me,

those were nothing like your lies.

So the spark is well hidden, my love,

just like you taught me.

In a safe place so deep

I can't even find it anymore

no stairs to get down there

I dare them every time.

Only trust to build but not a single brick.

We were never here,

I was never resting

like a dead weight, hopeless in your arms.

And you were never begging quietly

to take away your pain.

We both had lost our voice and so

I only remember silence.

It was loud.

My beloved words couldn’t help our godless souls.

Your mother said we'd go to hell,

I think I'm there.

All these years and nothing changed,

still drowning in that silence,

still a rock that holds me down,

behind your cellar door,

where darkness wraps around my wrists,

like my pale legs around your chest

and your fingers gripping left those marks

you dug under my skin,

is there blood under your nails?

We were only flesh and bones.

And yet I don’t believe what I still see:

the words you couldn’t speak for me.

I let you choose

and here we aren't.

Sorry, I was just so tired

because we were so proximal

yet we weren't there.

You ask me if I remember what it felt like

when we steamed my window

tangled arms and legs and necks,

sleeping for days,

no one wondered where we were,

no one cared,

hours like days, and days like weeks,

no sun light, no season, no weather forecast

in your room.

They say love is blind

and I think at some point we were given back our eyes.

It comes back to the spark that couldn’t save you,

the spark you couldn't find.

To realise one night, so high:

the spark was truly only mine.

I took care of it,

I walked for miles,

please don't cry

you said please don't cry

you look grown up when you cry

you look just like me when you cry.

The spark is well hidden my love,

just like you taught me.

I built things with my hands,

I can hear your steps behind me time by time.

And there was so much I would have loved to say.

But by the look in your grim eyes

I knew all those things you couldn't tell me,

those were nothing like your lies.

So the spark is well hidden,

my love,

just like you taught me.

heartbreak
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About the Creator

Clara Malaussène

I'm interested in human behaviour, imperfection and love. Also I like tuna sandwiches and red neon lights.

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