Tough Guy/Teddy Bear Poem by Tom Sinclair

There are two things in the top pocket of my coat
On this N15 night bus
A pack of three BIC pens
I've taken one out
To carve these words
Three days
Three days till I see you
I've offered the man next to me
A ginger beer for the inconvenience of sitting next to a stranger
You are not a stranger to me, but you should be
It's been a week since I tasted your lips at the seaside
They were soft and giving
Us bare footed on the sand
I have only spent 7 hours in your physical presence
But I am racing back home to tell you so many things
And also nothing

I am falling for you hard

Nothing new there, perhaps

But I am falling for you in a monumental way
I feel like I've known you forever, and that you could be the love of my life
Now the scary part
Not could, but you already are
I'll give you the evidence
I'll state my case so know this isn't merely another coincidence of ours
The first time I saw you
We spoke as you walked home
I wanted to follow you, to continue our conversation,
But two points
Firstly we'd only just met
And secondly the road was not long enough
I wish the road had defied space and stretched out
And we'd kept walking by each others side in perpetuem

I am crazy
But you embrace me now, regardless
You tell me all the sweet fruitful things that fall from your mind

What I'm trying to say is a bit fierce for one week, since the one date down the road we're walking

But
What the hell
I want to be with you until there are barnacles squirming on my feet
Both wearing matching beards

I have hoped before that things would last forever

But

I have never known it would be true
And on my way home I think of all the strange things that I want to tell you

That if you lost all your limbs bar one
Your beautiful head,
I would still be yours, we'd watch TV together, I'd light you the occasional cigarette your mother
Doesn't know you smoke, and even though I don't know if you even like giving oral,
And I don't really like receiving it; we'd find a way to make it work

This world has yet to make a blade I would not step in the way of
As I would rather be cut a 1'000 times than see you cut just once

That if I get to meet your mother I would tell her what a wonderful amazing daughter she has
Even though she should really know that by now, she has had thirty years to see

I told you that if you die on me
I'd have your name tattooed upon my heart
And I'd tell them not to bother to stich up the wound

P.S

Also in my top pocket are a packet of ten Benson and Hedges silver
When you light my cigarette in your lips, and pass them to me
It's just another way we kiss
And you'll have to light mine
Because I don't even really smoke
But I'll welcome death now
As long as when it finds me, it looks at me, like you do