Tiani Leah

The way you do

I love how you walk, and whistle as if everything is just fine and dandy. You always smile when you go past.
The way your strong hands grip boxes, pulling things apart, putting them back together again.
How you look away whenever you’re spoken to, as if to portray that you are simply too cool to bother caring about such issues.

How you answer the phone. How you put your pen to paper as you begin to write, your messy, untidy words, that bring me so much warmth.

You always flick your pen, playing with it in your fingers, twirling it back and forth, looking at your feet.
The way your shirt stretches over your handsome and so broad back, when you reach forward.
How you cut things, tape things, measure things, break things, pack things, open things, close things.
How you put the sign out in the morning.

‘The way you do things you do’

Just like in Memento. You put these things together and you get the feel of a person.
The little things no one else ever notices about you, but I do.

The way you gather your clothes in the morning and escape to the privacy of your bathroom.
The way you turn the shower on, let it run. The way you run your hands through your hair, so roughly, to wet it, wake yourself up.
Not hot, but warm water - dripping down those gorgeous thick, black ringlets.

You are you, as you’ll always be. And never be mine.

To Find You

The insignificance of our everyday life that contains her

Affliction in your eyes, in my heart, of how you feel…

You say you don’t care, but you do, you care so much

For her…what about me…? Stolen attention of a withered kind

 

Everything you’ve ever seen in her was a tragic memory

Of all that reality holds, all that idealism seems to be…

I’m sick of staring in those mirrors only to see you before me

I feel what you feel, I feel empty and meaningless

 

So many things, I need to tell you friend

Things that have no significance to you, but to me

The world in all its glory, a painting of your feelings

Drained out and blurred to the point of confusion.

 

So would they care if you disappeared tomorrow?

Would she? Would she lift a fucking finger to find you?

More than I would? I’m quite interested to know.

Would she love you more than I currently do?

 

I care more about you.

Dear Darlin’

I’m burning up its 40 plus in the shade
Hand me a shovel coz I’m digging’ a grave
I’m going to bury that shell on the door
The dove flew the coop and went to heaven above
And when I’m gone I’m gonna write you a letter
Of anything but love

I heard you scratching at the flyscreen door
Those wounds ain’t gonna heal if you keep on picking them sores
You blame the symptoms but you know what’s the cause
It’s anything but love

I walked so far I wore a hole in my boots
I wear this here old vest as though it was bullet proof
You keep on running trying to hide from the truth
It’s anything but love