anna-lynnWhisper

Canadian
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Pieces Of GracePieces of Grace all scattered around, / much like confetti all over the ground. / So hard to pick up, yet easy to see,
16
Jan 29, 2019
It's TimeA scarf rests upon the old rocking chair my mother would sit in, while she sang me to sleep as a child. / The water colour scarf smells of acrylic paint and dusty cigars. / An old cloudy ash tray hangs off the side of a water-stained coffee table, just waiting to be emptied.
6
Jun 15, 2016
AloneBody is pensive, eyes are cold. / He opens his arms wide with great intent, but I callously greet him. / I drift to sleep where I dream of me, lost in the woods with no one in sight.
7
Mar 3, 2016
Daisies of MineDaisies grow under my bed every time you kiss me goodnight. / I can smell their floral scent as they creep around my bed, trying to wrap me up in their dark green stems. / The petals, they fall, all around the outline of your fragile, milky body.
7
Jan 12, 2016
I wish, therefore, I willI wish for flowers that bloom every season in the backyard of my mind. / I wish to find happiness in the corners of my own smile. / I wish to feel the sun on the nebula of freckles that spreads across my rosy cheeks.
7
Jan 8, 2016
Ocean ThoughtsDeep oceans cannot hold what is hiding within my heart, the waves cannot squander my thoughts, oh so dark-- / The coral cannot cover my sad hopeful zeal, because I am full of unrealistic ideals-- / I drift with the fishes and pretend to be free, but your arms, oh so tight, are wrapped around me--
7
Dec 28, 2015
If I could be anythingIf I could be anything, I would be the cavernous moon that hangs above your head as you sleep. From dusk until dawn I would keep you safe, enrobed in the glow of my cold milky light. / *If I could be anything, I would be yours.*
2
Dec 12, 2015
Washed outWater colour china shines from the sun, melting the white walls into a rainbow of light. He sits with his mouth twisted into a concentrated thought, and his eyes focused on what used to be me. Only a picture..a tearless memory. My hand translucent against the wood grain table, my heart no longer ticking in time with the aging grandfather clock. No longer cold, no longer warm. No longer full of over joy and life, and no longer filled with sadness or contempt. I cannot smell the wilting daises, I cannot taste the week old cigar smoke likely stale in the air. Nothing is the same, but it is rather comforting. / *Water colour china shines from the sun..*
2
Jun 20, 2015
Missing, him?Something was missing the moment I stepped out the door. I wondered frantically at the sight of my bare hands and empty pockets at what that something could be. I walked back inside the dreary blackness of the empty house and searched all over for something that would release this feeling of exile from my chest. I searched the kitchen, the bathroom, my shadowy bedroom, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I finally checked the heart of the house, the living room and, there! My keys were laid out on the coffee table. I picked them up grasping the cold sharpness from the idoling keys, only feeling a moment of relief to find that, no. *That wasn't what I was looking for.*
1
Feb 19, 2015
I promiseAnd because a broken heart takes time to heal, I need you to trust that one day I *will* love you as much as you love me.
1
Apr 7, 2014
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