Hold my hand like that time in Eugene.
Please save me from this pill-routine, this empty dreaming time.
I am a shard of glass fallen from a high window and now I can only lie here until you save me, pick me up.
I'm a newspaper left in rain-showers, my sense of self lies in inky pools on the sidewalk.
I am lost in that same endless Monday when you left, took your suitcase and everything inside of me.
Could I have my heart back please?
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 6:55 PM UTC
Now,
Then,
Here,
There.
We,
Are,
Everything.
Charcoal lines of society try to contain us, but like flames we'll leap right over...
In your dark eyes, I see, atop a craggy-cliff a garden of bliss.
Dancing colours painted onto flowers; there dreams rise from soil and new-leaf by new-leaf a beanstalk of aspirations is born.
As blood brother's are bound, so us too will share a connection deep as a diamond mine.
I know we will be happy winged creatures when we finally reach the shores of the place we were always meant to call home.
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
She's tired of being a doll.
She no longer wants to be locked in a drawer with her pale pink dainty lips pressed against the ceiling of her rose-petal scented nightmare chamber.
She's old news now, Julie is the one to they all dote over, her hair's a shade lighter and glossier and her little boots are a more brilliant pink. Julie's dress isn't frayed like Arleta's, the flowers on the new doll's dress are more detailed and eye-catching.
Julie's perfumed with lemon and jasmine, Arleta used to smell of roses plucked at dawn after rain, now the once-sweet scent is toxic and she can't escape it.
She met a boy-doll once; Marr.. he looked at her as if she was a ship freshly painted and awaiting her maiden voyage over apple-green seas. Her tiny china heart had flipped that day and then never beat with such lovestruck ferosity again.
He'd fallen from a 3rd storey window and had been too broken to be mended, just like her worn little doll-heart.
But if she could dance like the young girls in the village do, in the buttercup fields.. if she could share carrot cake as dusk approached across the river and could sleep the night away in a hot air balloon!
If her legs could run and leap, and her delicate lips could kiss a charming boy..
She holds hope in her chest and crosses her porcelain fingers, maybe luck will fall into her lonely life like a jewel in a hail-storm.
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 5:54 PM UTC
When you died I planted a seed in my garden soil, a laurel tree seed.
I think of it as your heart living on even though the rest of you is gone.
Its leaves are all your life experiences and when it rains I'm sure your shining leaves curl just a little at the tips from joy; you always loved the rain.
Hot days come and I lie in your shade and listen to your versions of the times we shared, spoken soft into the wind.
Yes I cry at times, I can't wrap my arms around bark and feel the same comfort that you brought.
But when tears roll I swear your thin branches frolic; to me maybe you're saying there are still such good things to come.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 4:59 PM UTC
I wake up only to fall into your galaxy-eyes;
We lived before side by side on some other planet where the dirt was pale-blue and poppies grew in every direction for miles.
We were identical to the people we are today but had different names.
I found you again; it's magic.
We'll forever keep meeting one another, I know for certain;
So don't be afraid of time and ageing; we'll never be truly gone.
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 6:52 PM UTC
He's sandstone in the desert, I'm the blue sky wrapped tight around him.
I kiss him with raindrops and in return he makes flowers grow.
We are like a lion and a nightingale; nothing alike but our marriage is the truest union.
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 7:05 PM UTC
Eyes, lips, soft hands.
You kissing me is like moonlight falling on still midnight seas.
Up to clouds you carry me; I'm held so close I can't break like before.
Us; something that's real.
We'll be defying time...
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 6:57 PM UTC
The swimming pool in Kansas.
Grey eyes!
Your hand brushed mine;
The water was cool and there were chestnut-coloured butterflies in the air.
Stormclouds.
It rained and we kissed eyes-closed in the car-park under an elm tree.
No communication, only a shared moment and then into the night you walked; walked away, away.
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 6:34 PM UTC
She's a newspaper.
There's her headline bold and brash;
But read the small print and she becomes a 5,000 piece jigsaw puzzle.
The words are memories which moulded her, the pictures are dreams, aspirations and fears.
Her paper pages may be thin but each is woven with lines of strength.
Her heart lies at the epicentre of the fold in the pages and it's the most wonderful thing.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 3:36 PM UTC
In your eyes I find strength to go on,
In kisses from your lips I find love,
In the way we hold hands I find hope,
In you I find everything.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 8:13 PM UTC