He throws a knife at the dartboard and it
Lands on red so he goes down to the bar.
And you throw a knife at the dartboard and
it lands somewhere so then you follow him.
The pearly clasps of your teeth clicking tight,
Too tight, over your lips and drawing blood.
It's okay, the blood mixes well with the
alcohol you only start drinking when
you lose sight of him.
He throws a knife at the dartboard and it
Lands on red so he leaves and takes a drive.
And you throw a knife at the dartboard and
It lands so then you wait outside for him.
Your teeth are chattering but they cannot
Draw blood, because there is no blood in your
frozen lips. Your vision blurs in the cold
But you would hope only for his return,
To you, to this warmth.
He throws a knife at the dartboard and it
Lands on white so he disappears tonight.
And you throw a knife at the dartbord and
It lands so you go out searching for him
With your hands around your mouth and your words
Freezing solid in the night air. And then
You look down at your watch and you see that
it's midnight and you've given up and you're
crying in the streets.
He throws a knife at the dartboard and it
Lands on yellow so he smashes a cup
And feigns with broken glass over his wrist
And you throw a knife at the dartboard and
It lands. So you prepare the bandages
And you hide them until you might need them.
And you're looking down at the bloodstains on
Your clothes, your hair, every item you've had.
Invisible stains.
He throws a knife at the dartboard but it
Tumbles from his limp fingers and he shakes.
And you pull all the knives from the dartboard
And you both watch as it lands in pieces
Without the knives there to support it now.
And he says, I'm sorry, says, I love you
But it's a selfish love, a bloody love.
But you just go and hold him close because
He's warm, and he stayed.
He throws a knife at the dartboard and it
Lands on the ground or it lands in the board.
And you throw a knife at the dartboard and
It lands of the ground or maybe in the board.
And you say, let's get rid of this dartboard,
Let's buy darts, let's build an archery range,
Let's shoot arrows into the sky to see
Where they'd land. And he laughs and he holds you.
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*It's... eight tens and one five, then eight tens and no five, and I quite like it*
YOU ARE READING
Scattered Ponderings
PoetryA single note, it reads *Remember to write something profound here* (cover credit is to @adnali - if anyone's reading this, check out her stuff, it's so good) (spn & fandom is marked in title)
