Spongesong

I wish you wanted me

in a gentle way
that made sense of shadows
on the days when the rains came.

I wish you wanted me

in a funny way –

funny strange,
like the leaves on sea trees,
growing out
beyond the tide
and dropping their plankton leaves up into sky…

or funny funny,
funny silly,
funny crazy like a barrel,
rolling,
bouncing
down a mountain…

down a stream…

I wish that was you
with the sponge in your hand,

saving the washed-away colour of me…

pulling me back from the rain.

I wish I knew you,
who you,
what you were…

and I wish you wanted me,

right here,
right now,
where nothing does…

where nothing exists outside the train

that’s never gonna call at my station again.

I wish you could see the little world I made,
here in a river,
weeping me free…

and I wish it didn’t hurt my heart so much…

dying in a place
that I am never gonna go…

watching all the spinning and the treasures and the light…

watching through a prism that’ll never see me.

Published by Woodsy

I am so many little things, so many tiny words, woven here between those tales I think perhaps I need to tell... between those nightlights on the shore. I am a downpour, caught in myself... barely a heartbeat from running away.

21 thoughts on “Spongesong

  1. I LOVE this bit: funny strange,
    like the leaves on sea trees,
    growing out
    beyond the tide
    and dropping their plankton leaves up into sky…

    oh yes. It made me smile and stamp my foot that I hadn’t thought of it myself. Beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

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