By TJ Holland
Date: 16 December 2000
Golden
There was a time,
when I was younger
beautiful
unthinking,
that two young
beautiful
unthinking
boys loved me.
One gave me a gold nugget
yes, really
a solid gold brooch of a tiny miner
his pick-axe sunk into the mass
of gold that braced his little foot.
And he gave me stolen kisses
in the back of the bus
that we rode during that long
school field trip,
the one where we all slept
in the gymnasium of some other
teenagers' school.
He was a golden boy himself
not tiny, but tall. Very.
But I think I sunk my pick-ax
into the mass of his golden heart,
for which he had no brace,
when I wouldn't even look at him
after we arrived back in our little home town.
The other was the son
of a farmer, who always smelled
of hay and motorcycle exhaust.
Late at night he'd roll
his silenced machine into my yard
tap my window, slide inside
and steal kisses in my room.
To him I gave poems
that went uncomprehended
I gave him a golden horn
on a golden chain
and he wore it around his throat
in what I thought was a proud
manner, that said I am yours I admit
But he was the son
of a bitch, who taught me
to want what hurts me the most
He went from her when he came to me.
That golden horn repeatedly stabbed my heart
and the chain was not nearly
enough to secure him.
There comes a time
when gifts of gold
mean nothing
and wanting
does not mean recieving
When the love from one
may not be returned by another
and heartache happens
for him
for her
for reasons
for ever.
Back to the Heart-on-Sleeve Corner