Her eyes glow with fireflies
As we sit on the porch of that abandoned cabin,
The still lake shines with stars
That drift through the air around us
And adorn the skies above.
There is darkness to the East, where the city used to be,
Oddly gentle, filled with pinpricks of light
That look down upon those of us who survived
As we dream once again of reaching for them.
Leaning forward, her hair slips past her knees,
Tickling the wooden step beneath her
And drawing my absent hand through the strands.
We're fine now, truly,
Alive and well with the homegrown tomatoes and fresh-baked bread
Filling us up more than the morning coffee of rush hour ever did.
They're the same, in some ways,
With piercing eyes of green that strike me still in wonder.
He stares down from his throne at those who have built up his walls
While she looks past the aisles, capturing me in the winter of her eyes.
The frost in their eyes isn't complete.
Like the white that eats at the edges of the leaves
During the coming dawn and approaching night,
There's something there, brittle and worn
That they hide behind clear ice.
I want to know you,
Lean in close to see the fractured light of your soul
As it slips through the dark cracks of your eyes.
I wish to know how much of the green has survived the frost,
To breathe warmth onto that which you have left frigid
And that others refuse to let thaw.
One should say that love lasts more than a day,
But it doesn't sometimes, does it?
When metal pours from the sky
Or fountains of fire from the cracking Earth,
Two strangers can meet and fall
Into that desperate sort of embrace,
Which comes when the world itself has crumbled
And all that is left is grasping the other's hand in the dark.
She's known her for only a few weeks,
Maybe a month, it's sort of a blur
That should drip down her cheeks,
But only smears her vision instead
As she blinks away the disappointment that
Must be all she feels.
Because she knows better than
To get attached when
Everyone she meets on the street is sick,
Hacking up their life in little red drops that
Count down the weeks until
It's only her walking the streets because she can't get sick and
Die like everyone else and
Why her alone and not that girl too?
They were both young and gasping so, so clearly
When they ran up the stairs with groceries,
Which had been left to rot with their owner in the backroom.
They were both fit in fancy dresses from empty stores
And laced-up boots that fast-food jobs wouldn't buy but the end of the world could.
She was fine, vintage comic book in hand,
Golden ribbons trailing from her hair as she giggled
And their shoulders shook, bumping against each other
As laughter unfurled in the air.
It isn't fair,
Because she'll be fine,
One of those lucky survivors who'll
Always walk into a quiet apartment on her own.
I wish I were made of stone
So your words would never hurt me
I wish I were cold as ice
Then maybe I wouldn't be lonely
I wish I were made of steel
So my strength would never waver
If only I could turn back the clock
To a time when I felt safer
But I'm only flesh and bone
And your words have left me bleeding
My heart is torn apart
It's a wonder it's still beating
You made up your mind
Given me your final answer
What we shared is in the past
Time to write a brand new chapter
I will fix my broken heart
Some how glue it back together
It may never be the same
It'll bare this scar forever
But I'll be strong, I'll be alright
Though I'm not as hard as steel
And I can't turn back the clock
In time....my heart will heal
Your soul is the moon after dawn
A vapour who sings of love as well as pain
A delicate blossom that twirls with zephyrs
Fragrant and enriched by the snow's kiss
The geese have fled from iced lakes
long preserved with whispers of old
In the shade of bamboo, my flute is heard,
carried to you by the frost-kissed air
Your soul, a vapour, the moon after dawn
Hear my hymn of peace,
till winters turn to fawn
My head's still in the clouds! ^-^
I'm trying SO HARD not to freak out about my media course interview...