In the dark
for the shimmer of your eyes,
flashing bloody blue
in the subtle clatter of night.
For the echo of your wild laugh.
The thunder of your heart.
I sniff the air,
for scents disappearing
like the wind dancing away just out of embrace.
I look for you amidst the deeper dark,
the blades of grass,
and the soft rain of starlight.
I hunt for you.
For you blood.
And my fangs are bared,
catching the glimmer of
the swollen moon.
I hear your feet
skipping off the stones.
I imagine your sleek fingers carefully bending stalks,
delicately plucking petals
so that I might continue to follow after you
elusive but not vanishing,
escaping but in slow ballet.
I hunt for you,
my memories of  you
which slip through my fingers,
like shadows fading into the dark.
I look at the Earth
to notice a dandelion
with it's sagging muted yellow mane,
bent in an unnatural way.
Then I look up at the moon.
It's full.

I think you can tell
a lot about a person
from the pictures
on their phone

little moments
that needed to be captured
or maybe
milestones that you accidently
forgot the camera for

photos
sent and saved
of loved ones
sunsets and sunrises
all nighters
self portraits from bored
rainy days

some pictures
you always meant to delete

little pieces of your heart
everywhere you go

the first day of summer
the last day of summer

places you want to go
and
places you ache to be again

documenting everything

I think you can tell a lot about a person
from the pictures on their phone

- l. m.

I feel stronger than i did last week
even though my body feels broken.

My heart is beating slower than usual
but i can keep running faster than
rain can fall from the clouds.

My eyes can't see as sharp as they used too
but everytime i see your face
it's clearer than the skies on a spring day.

Ny legs seem to drag each step i take
but when you start to walk towards me
I lift each leg as though it doesn't hurt.

My arms can't lift groceries anymore
but when you wrap your arms around me
they fall unto you without any struggle.

My past is scars inside and out
but when you're around
it doesn't exist.

The scars i see
every morning i wake up
and every night i sleep
with them caressing me.

Never forgotten shall they be.

Replaced with your face
every morning i awake
and every night i sleep with you
caressing me.

Never forgotten shall you be.

I want to mow the grass in your heart
so maybe weeds will stop growing in the chambers.
I see how your breath is interrupted sometimes, you hiccup
out of an intoxicating sadness
mall fountain no one tosses their dimes and wishes in.

I bought you a set of those antique hairbrushes, hand mirrors
so heavy in their silver lace
beautiful like doilies or handkerchiefs for sneezing.
May it bring you silkworms rather than one from slimy earth.

Dear you, it can be okay not to talk about
how you feel and who you love and why you love me
as long as you feel it, please know that I believe it is there.

It can be okay to brush your hair looking into a vanity,
pretending that I am your lover overseas
because you feel that way
vines as big as the Berlin Wall block your heart from mine.

And still, we love
despite the wasp nest, the sadness bugs inside.

I think that was when the numbness first settled in.
First it devoured the tangible parts of my life.
Food didn't taste, blankets didn't warm, hugs didn't comfort.
I watched it steal away my family. Somehow the love we had shared was frozen.
It took all that I could see, leaving me with almost nothing to hold.
It was still hungry, and swiftly infiltrated my heart.
That's why I didn't want you anymore. It's because I knew I couldn't love you.
I sat and couldn't feel. I tried but I'd forgotten how to feel.

Insignificant
Posted by Olivia Kent on May 20, 2013 at 3:10pm
View Blog
Paling into insignificance,
Surrounded by sullen words with teardrops' touch!
A kiss to lift Monday from Sundays' doldrums,
Support mechanism of honour,

For one with caring hearts vengeance,
Vengeance not needed to sate dark souls desire,
Fly through petrol filled skies,
Full anger in affirmation,
Sky heart ablaze,
Burning cyclical sun storms,

Fire strikes back!
Soothed and caressed by angel's touch,
Touche,
Washes toxic tears away!
By ladylivvi1

Maybe I need to write on these walls
just a paragraph or two
of how you
don't matter
and I
don't matter.

This stupid thing in me
a monster ravenous
for my time and hands
it demands
to be heard,
tells me I'll never be cured,
and by you I'll always be allured.

Maybe that is the only way to do things
and, oh, how my little wax heart sings
softly to it.
This monster, this clawing contraption,
beats everything else down
Now, I unzip my gown.