Fade

Fade

The pillow where you laid your head.
The smell of you still haunts my bed.
And as I fall asleep to dream.
I wonder how things could have been.

Intentions of us were not clear,
I did not want love to appear.
And now I feel there’s only you.
But loneliness will have to do.

It hurts that you’re not in my arms.
It hurts that I can’t keep you from harm.
I can learn to love again.
Someday you will forget my name.

I place my hand where I held you near.
And now I know what it is to fear.
Love always seems to have a cost.
Without you in my life I’m lost.

So long as you have happiness.
I’ll at least have semi-bliss.
You’ll always be inside my heart.
It’s been that way right from the start.

Tears I have are bound to stain.
Memories of the pain.
No matter how long, I feel the same.
I cannot win, this is love’s game.

This is not goodbye, nor is it hello.
I just know that I have got to go.
Hopefully my love will fade away,
But I fear you’re in my heart to stay.

Davie Magill

Cal 

I never wanted to put this one up. I never thought I would, but it was a part of my past, the same as all the others. And tonight feels like the right night out of all of them.

Cal

I don’t even know how to say it. Those first three letters of your name trapped on my tongue, because I’m so upset I stutter when I speak, even more than usual.

“Cal, Cal, Cal” falling from my tongue like raindrops in the wind. Blowing my hope away; and no matter how much I try I just can’t get it out, and those tears begin to trickle down my face.

I know it was my fault you said goodbye. I know that we’re a not so distant memory trapped inside the archives of my heart. Filed under C. A C drive that’s been filled so many times with all those happy memories of us.

I never wanted to fight. I just wanted to talk and hold your hand, I wanted to squeeze on tight whenever I was hurt or sad. I needed you, I still do, in one way or another. Just so you can help me say your name.

“Cal, C-C-Cal, C-Cal,” it still won’t come. It still won’t leave my tongue, but it’s written in these tears dripping on this page I write on now. Because just thinking of your name reduces me to tears. And each Cal seems to represent a fragment of this broken heart.

I lift those teddies you gave to me. We named them after us. C-Cal, and D-Davie. Two bears that still love each other. Two bears who once brought comfort to these shaking hands. Nothing. I still can’t say your name.

I need a walk, so I lift my keys and the wallet you gave me. A Christmas present. Those tears begin to pour onto the soft worn leather. Worn because I frequented it so often, looking at the picture of your little face trapped inside. Each visit a step back to a memory. A memory of you and me forever preserved by pictures of that time.

I take it out and sit. Staring at your smile. Those brown eyes staring back at me. I see a love you don’t have now. That little smile, a smile that I can still remember, like looking through a window into yesterday. A smile my smile visited too little of the time. Drip. Now that smile distorted, by my tear ending time.

I scrunch it up in my hand. And I bow over. Because I can’t raise myself it hurts so deep inside. Because if I knew then, what I know now, I’d have never let you go. “C-Cal,” I’d have never let you go, I’d hold you in my arms forever, you and I, frozen in time. With you I could sit and write, word for word, how I loved you, rhyme after rhyme.

I still can. I still love you C-Cal. But I miss you. I miss the times you made me laugh, I miss how we could speak and you seemed to make everything better. I miss having you here because the truth is. I’m scared.

I’m scared of what will happen. I’m scared of my health and my heart not holding out. I’m scared of my home, and whether or not I’ll have a place to stay come the end of the year. I’m scared of college and this new adventure and education that awaits me.

I’m scared of losing you. A friend, a best friend long before a partner. I’m scared of losing that. And I’m scared of facing everything without you. Just because you made everything okay. You were a comfort. You were everything I ever needed, everything I ever wanted, and someone I cherished and loved so much.

But what scares me most of all. What scares me more than anything. Is not being able to say your name. “C-Cal”, please. Help me say it. If even for a moment. If even you could hold my hand, and tell me, “Everything’s gonna be okay,” just say it, just so I can say “Goodbye, C-Cal”.

I sit there, those tears dripped down my shirt, only on me an hour ago. Already ruined. You liked this shirt. You always did. And you liked these jeans, and you liked that cardigan, that jumper, this aftershave, this, that, everything. Everything reminds me of you.

“C-Cal,” I can’t. I can’t say it, and I can’t go on like this. I just can’t take it anymore. I never thought love could ever cause this. A feeling so simple, so beautiful, but a feeling that can shatter a heart in an instant. I hate myself for causing this.

Maybe I’m just seeking to blame someone else. Maybe that’s why I tried to blame you and I know I was wrong. Because it feels like it was all my fault. I’m the cause of my own misery; and writing this has just opened my eyes to all those problems there between us, problems I caused.

But I’ll never read this back, and I’ll never know what I did, because every time I go to pull the page, it breaks. Made fragile by these tears that seem to want to erase you, from each cranny of my heart. And it’s pulling me apart, because I never wanted to let you go.

Now I must go. Because I’m done, my chest aches from all I’ve done. My body bent and broken by this shattered heart, which was smashed when I seemingly gave you the hammer and said “Go on, give it your best shot.”

Maybe that’s what being human is. Not that you make mistakes. Not that we’re all the same. Maybe being human is the fact that we feel like concrete when it comes to love. I once thought my love could never move. But I know now, my love was as fragile as a dove.

Now fluttering away. Now escaping from this pain, this life, through the only way I know how. Getting lost in my writing until it all just becomes too much, using each line to bring me closer and closer to my knees. Heart beating faster and faster, then falling to a crunch.

And as I hit the floor I can almost hear those pieces of my heart, spilt across the floor, echoing like a falling chandelier, breaking into a million un-fixable pieces, that can only be fixed by one word.

But as I go, I go to say it, and the words won’t come. I stutter. Because trapped on my tongue are those first three letters of your name. The word that just won’t come. “C-C-Cal” and then I slowly whisper, “Goodbye”

David Magill

Poppy Seeds

Poppy Seeds

Whispering winds through fields. Whispering how I’m meant to feel.
Bird’s call in the chime. I know it’s the time. I know it’s the time.
Time for never again. Time for stay, time for go. Time for saying it all.
Perhaps my mistake, is in the fields. Perhaps it is disguised.
Disguised by a veil. Of amber and gold. The sunflowers in the fields.
They turn, they follow the sun. But they are lost at night. With only the cold. The sunflowers grow old.
Like I do with time. Time makes it worse, it cuts out my chest.
My heart is in my hands. I don’t know what to do. What is there left to do?

I think I’m losing my mind.
My body and soul they lie in the fields. Amongst the poppy seeds.
While I’m inside looking on. Inside of my home, my living hell. My room a prison cell.
A room blocked off from all in the fields. I think I’m losing it all.
My body, my soul they lie in the fields, amongst those poppy seeds.
My body, my soul.
They lie in the fields. Amongst those poppy seeds.

I seem to have misplaced my love.
They’re trapped in rose bush thorns.
My body is covered in blood.
It lies there in those poppy fields.
With love stuck there in the thorns.
My heart still in my hands. Blood pouring from my chest.
What can I do. This pumping charm. It lies here in my hand.
No love can take it, while trapped in thorns.
To keep it safe. It needs kept safe.
Before I say goodbye.
I can’t say goodbye, when I’m kept safe. Please save me from these harms.

I’m stuck in here alive. Looking out to fields.
I see my body and soul. They rest, inside those poppy fields. They lie amongst the seeds.
A graveyard lying low. Were soldiers once were felled.
Buried below, the fields growing lead.
Beneath the bullets spread.
These poppy seeds they cut me down. Perhaps I chose to die.
I gave up hope, when I lost my love. Amongst those rosey thorns.
While I was trapped. I must look on. Before it is goodbye.

This heart in my hand. It whispers that I can.
It tells me, to squeeze it tight.
I hold it, with my might.
Don’t give up this fight. Give into this fight.
I begin to turn around. Away from the fields.
I don’t know why.
I think I’m losing it all. My love. My body. My soul.
I leave this prison cell. I slip between the bars.
Bars made to hold bodies inside. But I am the spirit of man.
I slip between the cracks. Into the broken land.
My heart in my hand. It’s still beating in my hand.

I come across a knife. It whispers to me. Like blades of grass.
I understand it’s time.
I tell my heart goodbye.
The tears on my face make pools.
But spirits are immaterial things.
I stab my beating heart. The beating slowly fades. It’s broken.
It broke long before. It stopped whenever I lost my love.
Now I have lost my life.
So I must say goodbye.
Goodbye to my body and soul. Goodbye to my love. Goodbye to my life.

Now I must say it all.
Hello to the world. This wonderful life.
And so I start again.
Following like those sunflowers.
This little tiny seed.
Where is my mind? Where’s all I need.
Not here. It’s gone. Trapped amongst those poppy seeds.
Perhaps I’ll never die. I’ve already said goodbye.
Let me find my love. My body, my soul, immaterial things.
I need my life to love. I need love to live.
I am a sunflower, following a sun.
Without it I am lost. When I’m lost I’ll be in poppy seeds.
And that’s when we’ll start again.
Until then I’ll be waiting, inside my prison cell.
Inside this living hell.

Davie Magill

Cobbled Stones

Another poem from the old blog.

The Cobbled Stones

I lie here in the rain.
Cold, cobbled stones against my chest; each cobbled stone an ice cold knife.
Which slice straight through my soaking vest. 

I can’t get up, and I will not stand.
There’s heavy burden that I bear.
Weighs down on me like half tonne weight.
A heavy weight I must endure.

I lie here weak and cold;
Can you hear the screams at night?
The stones dig in and cut my flesh.
Don’t bear to watch, to hold this sight.

Left here in a pool, my deep red blood.
My once white vest a gory rag.
Now the only shirt I bear, a red flag I also wave.
But all it does, is droop and sag.

I am a bitter memory, regret.
Left on the cobbles, old and grey;
Never to be remembered.
Left to the side with no ones care; forcing to pray

Please God help me I’m broken,
A shadow of a man once whole.
Help me live and become again,
If not please rest my soul.

On these cobbled stones, where my body lay.
An old broken man left his blood red vest.
These cobbled stones on which he lived,
And where he does now rest.

Davie Magill

Untitled- Chapter 1

Untitled

Chapter 1

I can remember it vividly as I walked up the stairs and climbed the ladders. It had been only hours since I’d woken, a part of the same routine as each morning. The alarm rings at 7.15, I lean across to press snooze and then I doze until 7.30. This morning however was different. I didn’t wake up at 7.30. In fact, I don’t remember waking up or following my usual routine at all. It was all a blur, a daze. Now I’m here, just standing atop a roof with blood on my hands and the only thought I have is jump.

I could see the lights across the city, hear the ringing of sirens and the screeching of cars as they raced to see the circus master upon his podium. Only to be bitterly disappointed by the masked clown, who is to fall to his death in one of the darkest scenes of comedy the world has ever seen. The wind blew across my hair as it wafted around the great bulk of building, carrying with it the fumes and sounds of the city. It seemed to numb the noise as it whistled and hushed across my ears, muffling the orchestra of out of tune noises that didn’t seem to match the ugliness that was this concrete jungle.

I looked over the edge without that tiny feeling in the pit of your stomach that only occurs when you look over a great height. A feeling I can only liken to a bow being drawn across your intestines as they mimic the strings of a violin, creating a crescendo of fear in the depths of your soul. I didn’t like not having this feeling, I didn’t like not feeling anything. My mind was clear, my mind was blank; still not knowing what I had done I leant my body forwards. Stretching out my arms in an embrace, I felt myself drop towards the tender hug of the concrete road below.

The wind whistled past my ears and the sounds of screeching sirens from the city hurtled towards me. Not being able to open my eyes I didn’t know how close I was to the ground, yet somehow I knew. I could feel it nearing, I could feel it drawing closer and almost like time was slowed I could feel myself plummet into it; like reality was finally hitting me with a slow, painful, and drawn out jolt.

My nose landed first. I felt it being pressed vigorously with crunches as every piece of cartilage snapped and moulded together back into one before burying itself into the centre of my skull. My forehead, eyebrows, mouth and chin were the next to meet the cold pavement and my skull found itself being buried into the hard grey stone with such a force it didn’t even have the time to bounce. I could hear and feel each fragment of my skull cave in on my brain puncturing it like a knife into pâté and spreading the remains across the concrete palate which had become my death bed. The rest of my body fell into its grip with a series of crunches, ricochets and snaps; all merging together into a single sickening thud.

 

I woke up with a gasp. I was sweating and breathing heavily. The bed sheets were wet and uncomfortable on my back. The room suddenly changed from blackness to white light. I blinked as I struggled to contend with blinding rays which burned my retinas, creating white spots everywhere I looked. Eventually a man’s face emerged from behind the light. Brown eyes, stubble across his chiselled jaw. His hair was swept back by either his sweat or grease, and the hair on his chest was thick hiding several tribal tattoos he had below.

“You alright?” he asked as he turned to me from his side of the bed. “Bad dream?”

“Turn the fucking light off, what time is it?”

“4 a.m.”

I sighed and I rubbed my forehead with my fingers and the palm of my hand. I could feel a headache starting. Why was it this happened every time I was with someone? Why did I always feel patronised whenever they asked ‘Bad dream?’

“Leave,” I said.

“Huh?”

“I want you to leave.”

“Leave?”

“Get dressed and get out.”

“What? But I thought we-“

“We met on that fucking app,” I cut him off. “This was just a hook up, it didn’t mean anything.”

He got up, grabbing his jeans from the floor and quickly put on his t-shirt which was lying at the bottom of the bed. The creases misshaped the contours of his body, beneath it he was fit. As he stood up I saw several inches between his thick well-conditioned legs; and his golden tanned skin shimmered as the sweat on his body reflected the light.

“Asshole,” he said as he turned, fixing his jeans before leaving my room. There was silence for all of five or six seconds before I heard the crunch of the door handle as it was pressed and the inevitable slam as he left. I sighed again.

I leant back and was reminded of the sweat which had me feeling uncomfortable before. The sweat was now cold, and made me curve my spine to get the majority of my skin surface off its chilling touch. I rolled over to the side on which the man lay only moments before. I could smell him on the sheets, a mixture of sweat and sex. Nothing had prepared me for the emptiness it made me feel inside. I lay there for several minutes breathing in that comfort, before finally getting up and walking to the kitchen.

I lifted a packet of cigarettes and drew one out. Holding it between my lips I searched for the kitchen matches before settling with the gas stove. I usually stood on the kitchen balcony when I smoked to save my house from the stench but it was the middle of winter, I was entirely naked, and it looked as though it was starting to rain. I began to stare out of the balcony’s sliding door instead. A single pane of glass distancing me from the world outside. I felt like an animal in a zoo, spectating on passers-by as they stared. Who knows what they were thinking looking into this tiny world in which only I exist. While I stand here and look out wondering why I can’t ever fit into theirs.

I put my hand on it, my warm breath and smoke fogging up my view. I couldn’t tell whether focus of the world was beginning to fade because of the rain outside, or the tears welling in my eyes as they began to slowly make their way down my face. I opened up the balcony door, and put out my cigarette against the metal guardrail before flicking it off into the wind. I closed the door and turned back to my bed, hoping the sweat had now dried in and I could comfortably get back to sleep.

I’d lost count of the nights I’d slowly drift away with tears in my eyes, I’d often wake up in a lake that can only be described as an icy saddle for my face. Life hadn’t been happy for a long while. There had been men I’d slept with, men I’d cared for, but no one ever left me feeling fulfilled. I lived comfort to comfort, hook-up to hook-up. ‘Fun’ as they called it on the app. But I never understood what was fun about it. If we were all having fun we wouldn’t need to have sex with random strangers. Yet somehow it seemed like it was almost expected in this homosexual world.

I couldn’t feel the sweat as I got back into bed, and the smell of him had faded. My only comfort that evening now gone, leaving me here in my empty bed with nothing and no one at all. I felt the tears rushing back again. I grabbed the pillow from his side of the bed and spooned it. I didn’t want anything more than what I was getting. But as I slowly drifted off to sleep I knew there was something I was missing; and I felt more and more like there wasn’t a world in which I was meant to belong.

Davie Magill

Sinking

Seeing as I’m starting again I thought I would start this with one of my favourite poems from my last blog all those years ago. It’s good to be back!

Sinking

As I sit I listen
To how the paint runs down the walls
Drenched by only memories
Each single tear that falls

Though my heart’s left wondering
Why the lonely ship set sail
When the seas forecast was stormy
An icy, stinging hail

Now slowly sinking to the surface
A lonely man once cried
A ship that sinks while wandering
Is a ship that never died

Now buried beneath the icy waves
The painted glass of time
I’m left here often pondering
Why you’re no longer mine

While the ship it shows it’s gratitude
For the tears dripped down the wall
A sailor is left wondering
What ship left bay at all?

For no man left was standing
To tell that tale at all
But is beckoned to the icy waves
Towards the captains call

One lonely sailor lost at night
With nothing but an oar
Is a dead man sinking to the surface
Straight to Satan’s door

The bell strikes not once
But several times, to shout to all above
All who slowly float on by
Each broken hearted love

Each chime a call to the dying
To pass to that happy place
A meaningful, echo passes the waters
As each sailor loses their race

Now the sailors stand on land
With no boat in bay at all
But they hear a ship’s chime echo
Death’s un-holy call

Davie Magill