Over-dozed

[Magpie]

Over-Dozed  (edit 2 Bryn, Tim, Knot)

I remember the afternoon when you appeared at my door,
blazing a trail of halcyon rust,
pirouetting like a helpless feather in the wind,
bouncing elegantly off two walls 
and letting gravity pull you to the nearest chair.

Mumbling about how much,
how clean,
hitting a pipeline,
the dark crimson surge
and heaven cascading through the walls;
a tidal wave extinguishing the pain.

I continued playing the battered Spanish guitar
that some tone deaf fool had left
abandoned after judging it with their eyes.
"That's nice" you said.
Smiled, swayed and drifted into bliss.

Content to just be, I encouraged the guitar
to continue singing sweetly
until it dawned on me that I was slowly killing you.
Gently letting you fall back to the womb
and away from reality's embrace.
All the time watching your colours fade 
into a Baltic blue.

My last resort of cold water shock
let in a tiny chink of light,
piercing the cocoon,
flooding grey to pink,
triggering a sharp intake of breath, 
prompting the glare and the words,
"Do that again and I'll fucking kill you!"

Over-Dozed  (edit 1 Bryn, Tim)

I remember the afternoon when you appeared at my door,
blazing a trail of halcyon rust,
pirouetting like a helpless feather in the wind,
bouncing elegantly off two walls 
and letting gravity pull you to the nearest chair.

Mumbling about how much,
how clean,
hitting a pipeline,
the dark crimson surge
and heaven cascading through the walls
a tidal wave extinguishing the pain.

I continued playing the battered Spanish guitar
that some tone deaf fool had left
abandoned after judging it with their eyes.
"That's nice" you said.
Smiled, swayed and drifted into bliss.

Content to just be, I encouraged the guitar
to continue singing sweetly
until it dawned on me that I was slowly killing you.
Gently letting you fall back to the womb
and away from reality's embrace.
All the time watching your colours fade into a baltic blue.

The last resort of cold water shock
let in a tiny chink of light,
piercing the cocoon,
flooding grey to pink,
triggering a sharp intake of breath, 
prompting the glare and the words,
"Ever throw water on me again and I'll kill you!"


Many thanks to Bryn and Tim for the suggestions they were very helpful. I have incorporated a lot of them into this edit.
I think the ending is now better but I still think that it is the weakest part of the poem. I'll give it more thought as to how I can make it stronger.

Thanks,
Mark 

 Over-Dozed

I remember the afternoon when you, my good friend, appeared at my door,
blazing a trail of halcyon rust, you pirouetted like a helpless feather in the wind,
bounced elegantly off two walls and let gravity pull you to the nearest chair.

Mumbling about how much, how clean, hitting a pipeline,
the dark crimson surge and heaven cascading
through the walls as a tidal wave extinguishing the pain.

Without saying a word I continued playing the battered Spanish guitar
that some tone deaf fool had left abandoned after judging it with their eyes.
"That's nice" you said. Smiled, swayed and drifted into bliss.

Content to just be; I encouraged the guitar to continue singing sweetly
until gradually; it dawned on me that I was slowly killing you,
gently lowering you back into the womb and away from realities grasp.

I spoke your name.
Shouted it.
Screamed it in your ear.
Not a flicker.
Shook you as hard as I could.
Slapped your face over and over.
Yelling. All the time watching your colours fade into a baltic blue.

With my last resort of cold water shock I managed to let in a tiny chink of light,
which pierced the cocoon, which flooded the grey back to pink,
which triggered the sharp intake of breath, which prompted the glare,
which accompanied the words "Ever throw water on me again and I'll kill you!!"