Oceans Poem by Clive Culverhouse

you made it easy
for me to kill you with my poems
desperately edging from the corners
darkened and otherwise

there's a loneliness to your mouth
that leaks, shall we call it, cruelty
an observation of others, you made,
you gave life to, while searching
your own oceans

and poems I wrote for you carried
you further into your pockets of
self-deprecation, oblivion, beds with no sheets
just a night on a platform
or, as you put it, a suicide

or as I put it
a pedestal