The dates are rolling over
Just as the pages in a novel-
A novel of my life
And I am folded into the spine
With you
And him
And her
And even the willow tree from my days as a child
Stuck inside a book
Kept far away from the world outside
The world which howls and leaves a ringing in my ears-
A taunting that makes me ache-
Fractures my fragile bones
And drives shivers that even my finger tips recall each time the moon cycles in the deep blues of night

I hide away
Secrets-
Fears kept in bundles-
Racing in figure eights in my never resting brain
As much as I inch my extremities out-
As much as I struggle for a forward motion
I am held
Here inside of the pages of a novel
Inside the creases of its spine
Where I lay my trembling mind

It is here you can find the things that I could never let pass my lips
When I have lost all of my breathe
And the trembling has finished digesting my mind

(C) Tiffanie Noel Doro

Wake up, wake up!
It's time to get your head
out of the clouds

Wake up you whimsical dreamer
and move to where you want

Wake up, wake up!
you sleepy head,
don't dread time
but rather dread death

Life doesn't move
if you just live with constant fear

Wake up, wake up!
daydreamer you are running out of breaths

Wake up and tell her
Tell her!
tell her you love her

Stop her!
stop her
she's waiting

Draw her a picture,
write her a song,

the more breaths you waste,
the farther she goes

Wake up, wake up!
daydreamer she's gone,
what will you do now?

You let her go,
even when I told you
to hold onto that balloon

You lived in constant fear
now your nightmares came true

Wake up, Wake up!
maybe it's not too late
tell her you love her
tell her what she means to you

Don't just stand there,
move!

Declaring that you’re in a relationship will change some things.
(So maybe I'm putting it mildly)

What it doesn’t mean is that everything will suddenly be perfect.

It takes more than labeling a relationship to hold conversations just by looking into each other’s eyes,
To laugh together while having ***,
To let them convince you that when they tell you you’re beautiful they aren’t disregarding your flaws or glorifying them, but instead loving them because they’re part of you,
And that you’re the loveliest being in the universe,
No matter how many freckles they have to kiss to prove it to you.

It doesn’t mean that you’ll suddenly be able to touch your heart to theirs by giving them a goodnight kiss,
Or that they’ll slow dance to Here Comes the Sun at midnight in the middle of January,
Just because they know it makes you feel so complete inside that you’ll never, ever, want to stop kissing them,
And that you’ll be crying at the same time,
As you smile when you trip over the arm of the sofa and land with them on top of you, holding them harder than ever.

What it does mean is that what you have is mutual.

It means that you’re willing to learn how to lace your fingers together, not caring who sees how awkward it is when you can’t get them to fit quite right,
That you’ll let friendly hugs turn into blushing kisses on the cheek,
Tickle fights into a silence that fits like a missing puzzle piece around you,
As you bump noses and grin for the forty-fifth time,
At two in the morning because neither of you can say goodnight without seeing the smile on the other’s face and blushing again.

It means that person, the person you just let take your label,
The one that that lets everyone know you’re their’s because you want to be,
Is willing to try to get there.
To get there with you.

It means,
That this is a start.

Don’t let go.

A man-made cave of brutal grey
Damp and dark on sunlit day
Void of what it used to be
Yet a thousand souls I seem to see
Oppressed I felt I must escape
So through narrow door my way I make
A few steps more on grassy knoll
To sit, and breathe, and take control
I stare across the open fields
Wide and flat, and Poplar healed
I want to write
Yet words won’t come
For in this place all words are done
Upon this knoll, one long past day
Were penned the words of John McCrae
So instead I ponder field’s banks
Fresh turned earth in neat trim ranks
And watch the flowers bob their heads
With diaphanous petals
Of deep blood red.

RD © 2014