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Grace Nov 2021
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it sounds simple,


does it not?
we are supposedly the most adaptive species on the planet
Grace Dec 2023
A kiss to waver all contempt away,
a lovely flavour that no flower could convey.
To pluck its petals, like the strumming of a lyre,
a song, ephemeral but the loveliest of choirs.
to all those who make my heart sing
Grace Jun 2023
embraces and we feel more distant
as the night ends
and the curtains close
Grace Aug 2023
a safe distance
from the passive shore
will keep me from
wanting more
Grace Aug 2023
who cares about the past,
since now is now.
Have cool adventures and surround yourself with good people,
and be kind and authentic and sassy,
and you'll be just fine.
Grace Jun 2021
Cherish it, children -
cherish the cherry blossoms for they bloom in spring and fall shortly thereafter.
Cherish the clear sky for soon enough, smog will cower in the corners of the night.
Cherish the freedom of childhood; soon you'll turn ten and be off to college or travel the world.
Cherish this second because it's over before you realize how many milliseconds went away with it.
Grace May 2021
every word i read gives me hope.
hope for someone I can be,
hope for what goes on out there,
and what sedatives will soothe the monster in me.
oh words!
what would I do,
if I didn't have you...
Grace Oct 2021
he eats all the guilt like inhaling air
i wish he would taste his innocence too
Grace Sep 2023
wings beat fast a song
in the undertones of wind,
be mine forever?
Grace Apr 2022
they were both blindfolded;

one could shoot and the other promised he could.
Grace Nov 2021
i liked he
he liked she
she liked he
who liked me
Grace Jan 2021
I went in
the water was cool and healing
at first.
I saw the moon cry into her reflection,
she tried desperately to pull the tides away.
But foolish me;
I swam out,
practically asking the ocean to drown me,
I loved her cool caress on my skin.
My skin was like a midnight sky
full of stars.
I was lucky.
When I washed up on shore the next morning
I found out I was drunk on salt
and
the ocean left a desert of it out there.
Grace May 2021
And in your eyes, you breathe into me a new dream,
I'd give my soul to the loons and my hands to the lions
for that moment where our eyes meet.
Grace Feb 9
The succor of strumming overtakes her
as the moon climbs high;
if she plays late enough, she will not sleep,
will let hours slip by,
will become midnight's muse, or something else ---

another song for the morning
Grace Jan 2024
brewing,
steeped so long
the tea is hot,
almost too strong

darkened;
a burning tongue
with steam that also
burns my lung.

porcelain;
tea-cups clamber
broken pieces,
cutting anger.
Grace Feb 2024
The horizon's obsolete
I want to appear mature,
so I stare at it for forever.

It is worth all that time
next to you.
another moment in time
Grace 1d
is it uncouth to defile spring so,
with the layering of heavy-laden snow
when I could see the grass,
walk unphased beneath the pass,
taste sweetness in April's blast
of wind infused with scents that grow?
Grace Feb 2024
The lady of burdens,
she who walks unseen, in darkness,
with stealth and blade.
She comes unsummoned and slices shadow.
She knows only remorse,
cursed always to follow one path.
She slays all things of dissonance,
and is deaf to the songbirds.

What could have saved her from this life?
If only she had turned to see the morning -
light beyond a castor of shadows.
aren't we all aware of the ability to turn around,
to change the pain of darkness yet afraid of the blinding sun?
Grace Oct 2021
I do not know why he chose me. I am no god. Just a prince - a mortal. I will die soon, that is what his sister told me. But still, I cannot resist him. He is the sun. He casts no shadow in my life.
Grace Sep 2023
apples taste so sweet
like knowledge dripping from teeth
the forbidden fruit
the story goes like this: it is a forbidden fruit - apples are out of the contract
Grace Aug 2021
Wildfires,
wildflowers -
pretty petals,
singed in hours.

Mrs. Rain,
quite contempt,
depriving pain
the rain exempt.

Lady Summer,
draped in dew,
eyes of light
a time anew.

Laird of wind
you may go
and blow as far
as I can throw
and while you whip
and hum and lash
would you mind a little bash
of the flames, though they are nice -
I think one wildfire will suffice.
Grace Nov 2023
seduced by that
innocence
sounding so cruel like deer who
do not know to wait
they run head on
and live or die by chance

that is always the fear -
not even the timing
but the doing

an entire world is waiting
on the other side

so admire the grass
say things
ask.
dreams don't often come walking
Grace Dec 2023
at the end of winding roads, you still follow.
I believe in everything you are
to me, you are the reason and the means
to anything and everything I need.
Grace Aug 2023
the song of stillness
hummed as Dawn holds the water
in a spell, a dream

some days, there are tears;
the water is a remnant,
an old memory

after all, don't you,
still waking, hold closer to
the feeling of dreams?
it is daybreak
yet the horizon lies unbroken
and somewhere I know
the water will touch the sky
moulding days and dreamers
Grace Nov 2023
The asylum is the biggest building;
we called it the spider because from above,
its wings looked like legs with a body at the centre.
The windows are framed by metal grating,
and crosses mark each of them in the middle.

Now it is no longer an asylum.
It's marked as private property,
yet trails surround it in the fields of tall grass and the woods behind.
In the morning, runners sweep past it in a dreary march,
and in the evening, kids bike past in a race against the sun.
Sometimes they get off their bikes and peer into the windows on the ground floor,
plaster their faces against the metal grating,
see the peeling wallpaper and the over-turned tables,
but mostly the empty rooms and the view across to the next window.
Inherently they look through the building, onto the other side where a window, parallel to the one they are looking in, transports them to the other side of the walls.

On the second floor, there is a broken window,
forced from the inside since glass covers the lawn and pavement.

Maybe it is tragic,
all the people from the north side of this land shipped up here and trapped,
some of them sterilized,
confined to a labyrinth.

Now the building sits empty and deranged,
locked up from the outside world,
not for any purpose anymore except to sit there,
expired.
Now ghosts haunt the grounds, supposedly. But it is tragic.
Grace Jul 2024
I think I knew you once,
with eyes like the sea caught by a storm,
you left on the vow of this unbreaking love.

Come back to me, I begged into the hills, death having made us wed. I died that day, and every day after.

In the throws of a fateful wind, my dress blew scarlet threads; my dead heart was promised to a prince, and vacantly I walked, a ghost for you.

Come back to me, I begged into the hills.

In this life or the next, I will ride wildly on horses with you, my love. I became yours on the sword of your vow.
the princess bride (1987)
Grace Sep 2023
mother calls them in,
the ones without a concept
of how summer ends.
Grace Aug 2024
I am lost between
the senses infused; linger,
letting them last long
this week filled me with quiet, easy going sun,

freed me
Grace Aug 2023
Autumn pulls at dusks
yet August will not relent
until September

when evenings begin to hold that hallowed smell inside,
yet summer holds

15.08.23
Grace Oct 2024
leaves loosen from limbs
and the smell of apples sweetens the air

I follow you to the top, to the peak. You  laugh and I know
we are for each other in this life,

despite the weather, the path, the season.
Grace Jul 2024
God or that breeze, spoke out and I could feel the caress on my young face. An intimacy only longing could tell you.
I long for you, so give in
Grace Feb 27
in a dream, the frozen expanse brims with colder water

but her and her father stood still as the water hummed below them, seeped through the cracks

a voice caught in the throat, a psalm for this frozen bay

as winter swells with yearning for the sparrow, for the stream.
Grace May 2023
so sweet
so shy
we both let months go by
Grace Feb 2024
the hierarchy of learning is in the institutions
that rob you of your money and then spit you
out into the world, shaking.

Learning is a form of art, I think,
yet it has lost its lustre.

Curiosity is no killer,
but the cruelty of what "education" has become, is.
what has already been said,
even though I have the privilege of being able to complain about something like this
is another astonishing thing
Grace Feb 2022
there are times when my voice gives into the devouring worm
that is the silence,
that is the pull between your thoughts,
the tug of hate and love.

who do you let win,
because it is up to you.
but when you must choose who does lose,
there is no trophy for selfish choices,
there is no winner in this wordless crime.

i have loved and ached
and sought after those things you two once shared -
compared to now, we are impaired
of this balance between
too little and too much -

a lack of patience and of touch
Grace Mar 1
One person like steam on the horizon in a winter morning as the sun rises

stuck in the awe of them, the way of them, the transientness of knowing how soon the day will move on,

be over but that feeling lingers
Grace Sep 2023
sometimes you must be your own fighter,
your own believer.
this one could have gone unfought
there are never winners
Grace Aug 2021
he glowed more than any god ever could - ever dared to;
it was no curse that I could not look away.
Grace Mar 2022
beast

it feeds upon dreams
and joys
and we blame it for our carelessness

and we forget about it being there
and it loves
and we love
it hates
and we hate

and it hungers
starves

though still it is a beast
Grace Aug 2021
in the darkness of my doubts and troubles hums a songbird
Grace Mar 11
The mirror's dark other half looks back at me in the dark of the morning

the whole street's asleep still, moonlight wavering and waxing to its peak

the lake is still frozen beyond the harbour, two islands joined by an ice corridor

the sound of the guitar a part of the darkness, a piece of the morning, a song before the birds wake.
Grace Jan 2021
Before the crows wake
I'd better collect the light
the moon has left me.
Full moons are powerful. But I realized that the moon is always full. We just don't see it that way.
Grace Jun 2024
a lover's soft kiss
beneath this strawberry moon:
spring into summer
seasons crush together,
into a cherry wine
Grace May 2024
there is a quality subtler than kindness,
though they are connected.
quieter, lovelier, beautiful to notice and reciprocate
if you can see it in those eyes,
that smile, the look across the room

barely platonic, but some kind of love without tension,
a frequency that hums in beholders if you listen and reply
in your own way.

I admire this quality and the people it belongs to;
I only ever see them in passing, mostly,
and in fleeting moments I am enveloped by the warmth, the belonging, this lasting tryst of hearts that stay connected
Grace Jul 2023
the unrooted soul
who knows only wind as home
and land as its cage
Grace Mar 2024
the snow is a siphon

are you pulling me in
or am I pulling you toward me?

are you pushing me out
or am I pushing you away?

it blows into the windshield so we pull to this side,
let the transport pass us by,
hazards flashing in the dark.

silence hangs between us like the edge,
so feebly teetering between tears and peace
I want to spill my guts out to you,
but I am worried it will distance us.

my dear.
Grace Dec 2023
the emerald pines breathe
through the cold, forbidden prayer
of Winter's old mass.

the ancient, forest steeple
Grace Jan 2021
All of us are born.
Some live; others just exist.
We all die; some are.
Part 6 of Her Haiku's

We are all born. Some of us die before the heart stops beating, that is what I tried to capture in the last line.
Grace Dec 2023
timid, meek, the deer
who make trails in the forest
and know more than fear.
in a language, "strong heart" conveys courage.
Grace Aug 2021
I speak of hope
like the dawn it comes, there, on the horizon
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