Sand and Clay

What have I done?
Oh god, what have I done?!
Everything I touch
Turns to dirt, turns to muddy sand
Right before my very eyes
I grasp, holding tight
It slips, I grip tighter
Only it slides through my fingers
In spite of my efforts
Once again

I knew he was slipping away
I clung to him in desperation
Please don’t leave me
I cried, I begged, I tried
Still his love crumbled
I have soiled him
Brought chaos instead of peace
Sorrow instead of laughter
In a last ditch effort
I wrote him a cryptic love note
And mailed it with a gift

S i l e n c e

I looked at my stony hands
There were traces of his passing
They shook
Clay and sand stuck to my skin
The last remnants of him and I
A pitiful reminder
That I ruin every good thing I touch

So here’s a warning:
Steer clear of me
I’ll be your downfall
I don’t mean to do it
But somehow I always do
I have a black touch
My love is intense, perhaps too much so
I engulf and overrun, taint
Why did I think it wouldn’t happen again?

So, I’m sorry, my love
I truly am
I’m sorry I wasn’t enough
Or the timing was all wrong
Or a thousand other things
I wanted to build you up
Instead I destroyed you
So, yeah, I understand your silence
But it doesn’t make it hurt any less

©️tara caribou – 2018

41 thoughts on “Sand and Clay

      1. Compliments often are misconstrued implying there is a agenda. If someone complimented you every week you may wonder why they are doing that. And if you ask there has to be meat to the answer and if there isn’t it’s just words.

        Liked by 3 people

        1. hhmm maybe for some. Either that or I’m obtuse LOL because I’ve gotten compliments but I don’t take it as flirting, I take it as a compliment. In fact, I can only remember a couple times when I thought a man was actually flirting with me. And that was when I was a young woman.
          However, that wasn’t the sort of “building up” I was referring to in this poem. I was alluding to being someone who helps hold someone up, lifting them up when they are broken or down. A foundation of sorts. And my hope at providing a support or foundation failed catastrophically and seemed to destroy “him”.

          Liked by 1 person

  1. I thought of things, but it all sounded like bullshit from the opening word on. So instead I’m just going to say is that I know how this feels, to a t, because I have often felt the very same thing. It feels like carrying a plague, or a communicable curse.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Let your Black Torch burn Tara.

    Life is no “brief candle” for me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.
    George Bernard Shaw

    Liked by 1 person

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