This mind is a lake
Its waters dark and viscous
Thick like honey
It would
require so much strength to reach
the surface
And if you tried
You'd have to be certain
Which way is up
Because
no beam of light could reach in here
to lead you
You won't drown though
This mind is a kind mind
And you're promised to never feel cold
In its waters
It will take care of you
Keep you sane
No waves can attack
Once you've sunk inside
And you will be loved
And you will be home

I wake, to the rhythm, of you
breaking slowly, behind my ribcage.
The orchestral swell;
the auric light, of rosy dawn...
blooming, to new life.

More, than a phantom.
More, than a phantasm.

I yearn, to be wound, around you,
in long, lingering threads,
of bruisy, purple-gold daylight,
and pull tight, as I knit myself,
around your stretched form...
soft-skinned, and sleepy...
pulling you so tight to me,
that your body barely rocks
upon the edge, of the tapestry needle.

Let my legs, be the woven fabric,
that ensnares your hips,
and pulls you, even closer, to me.
I want to feel, your rippling laughter
burble, through your chest.
I want to swim, in languorous strokes,
the fathoms, of your aching mind,
with the ease, of turning your thoughts:
flipping through its dog-eared pages,
like the well-read chapters,
of a readily studied, book.

My arms, seek to hold you,
and cradle you, to me,
lips, pressed to your skin,
plush, and satin pillow soft.

I want to devour you, in rapacious,
repeated kisses...I want to feel
the spring-coiled tension,
above your shoulders, snap, and unwind
relaxing, in helpless surrender,
at my nymphic touch,
as the rest, of you...hardens, like resin
and then melts away,
between my own spread,
buttery thighs.

I want to be so filled,
with the full, of you,
that you spill over, and escape...
I want to clutch your face,
in the tenderness of my fingertips,
and lose myself, in the labyrinth
of your lovely, dreaming eyes.

I need you, like flowers,
need gentle rains, to bloom.
I desire, you...like the prime, of night,
awaiting the the rising moon.

and I wait, for you...
like the guitar string solo,
in a beloved tune.

She painted me in violent red
Dripping oil and
Strokes of toxic lead
Painted bloodied battle scenes
Of her, martyred
Me, dead
Vast imagery to tell her story,
Duplicitously
She painted her face
On every soldier, replaced,
And sold it museum to museum,
Showcased
I am the pawn,
Exhausted
A lifetime of submission
Of holding up hers,
Supported
I jumped ship and swam to shore
Faced that pain,
Drew lines in the sand,
And ended the war
She sings to the world her lies
Still, now
And paints me in violent red
From the cut she made,
From the wounds she bled.

I want to build a sandcastle
Sturdy and tall-
With towers and turrets
And cool shells on the walls.

A tower of books
As high as magic will grow it,
A balcony glowing
When the moonlight shows it.

I want a coral garden
Sprawling wide at the edge,
With tide pools like secrets
And starfish living along each ledge

There’d be laughter in the halls,
And windows facing the sea-
A peaceful place to live where I can exist as me

Seahorses in each stable-
Pampered and content,
Turtles everywhere happy to hear me vent

And when the tide comes and sweeps it all away
I'll have no tears to shed, I can build another the next day

Our memories are our secret,

only we can navigate their corridors,

only we bear the weight

of love that devoured and pain unspeakable.

We know the agony of unravelling two souls,

once certain they'd found home,

only to carve a void,

grasping at fragments too broken to mend.



The void remains…

I needed you to love me,

more than the numbness you drowned in.

I thought if I could piece you together,

I might somehow make myself whole.

But it was you who broke the chains,

that bound us,

pleading for my freedom,

as if I had ever wanted to be free.

Yet you never truly left, did you?



How can I grasp joy

when your absence lingers like a breath I can't

release?

Perhaps my soul remains entangled

in the silhouette of yours.

I am rich with reason to smile,

For I became the shape of your longing, moulded

my life into what you dreamt for me.

But love is never selfish,

So now I carry the weight of what was broken,

the ghost of what we almost had,

knowing love was never meant to be won,

only given, only lost.