20 August 2012

Confusing, confounding,

A love murder mystery;

You have all the weapons,

Motives, but refuse to

Commit the crime

Of getting too close

To me, or anyone else,

And you fear

You've already let the

Culprit in,

Locked the door,

And thrown away the key.

Yet in some ways you

Have unlocked,

Unfurled like a map,

X marking

Every spot.

You've become

An open picture book

I can read with

My eyes pressed shut;

You emotions like braille,

The raised dots a code

That let me know

When you are

Happy, worried, tired,

Bored, scared, sad,

When you need me

To ask how you are

And to press a little further

When you say

"I'm ok,"

Because you aren't.

Your body-language

Isn't a foreign dialect to me,

It's my mother tongue,

Like I've spoken it

All my life;

I see it in your eyes,

Feel it in your arms,

Hear it in your sighs;

I've been there when

You've silently cried,

When you've laughed till it hurts,

I know you well enough

And I'm well and truly fucked,

No plea bargain for me,

You don't need a polygraph machine

Because you know me

Better than I know myself.

Don't think then

You can pretend for a second,

That avoiding questions

Will throw me off,

Or that being so blasé

With meaningless words

Will convince me that

You don't love and hurt

The way I do;

I can see the smudged

Fingerprints of

The beginnings of love.

So until you finally

Decide to come clean,

Hold out your bloodied palms,

And explain this situation we're in,

We'll carry on with

The masquerade, secrets-and-lies,

Very film-noir,

I'll keep adding to the case file.

Just know this; you may be

A master love-criminal,

But I'm a private eye.

Irrational_KimmiLove Murder Mystery • Opuss № I