Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
witchy woman Jun 2017
willow tree, on a lean
branches surround me gracefully
I go to touch your silky leaves,
but the wind takes them away from me.

where do the dogs go when
they chase the silver moon?
they hunt the night, stars in sight
that come and go too soon.

I wish to lie in a bed of grass,
surrounded by the night sky and city.
though not the jungle I prefer
the skyscraper lights look so pretty.

take my breath away, natural humming high
but not quite, as magnificent
next to the multitude of constellations
reflected in your eyes.
breathe in the morning summer air that makes its way across the grass
witchy woman Jun 2017
Sun kisses horizons break
they dance across my face and wake me,
streaming through my window panes.
The sky outside is heavy blue, the wind ever boisterous. Between the garden of sound and clock radio, my head is full of voices.
today is a winding road, that's taking me to places that I didn't want to go
I rake my hand through my hair and roll out of bed, the song on the radio clears the noise in my head reminds me of a simpler time, of something you said,  
today in the blink of an eye I'm holding onto something and I do not know why, I try
I tried to read between the lines, I tried to look it your eyes, I want a simple explanation for what I'm feeling inside
gotta find a way out, maybe there's a way out
"Your voice was the sound track of my summer"
They ring loudly through my eardrums, the rest of the world at a distant hum. Memories and stories flood instantly, a flash storm in the middle of a sunny morning.
do you know you're unlike any other? You'll always be my thunder
And suddenly I'm lost, in the past in the moment of times we never thought would end. We both got too far, and became afraid. We never said goodbye, we simply walked away.
your eyes, are the brightest of all the colours. I don't wanna ever lie another. You'll always be my thunder
so bring on the rain
*bring on the thunder
witchy woman Apr 2017
space closes, time passes
seasons change, bringing inevitable difference with them.
as years draw by and sketch new lines on your face
I face the reality that,
one day, everyone will age.
from the moment you are born, you are already dying
life sends diseases of the mind and body to weaken you.
nobody is spared.
that's why so many are drawn to stories of death and despair
because we know it is right under our noses,
around every street corner,
behind every sunny spot, a shadow.
is it beautiful? ironically.
but is this really the way to live fulfilled? happily?
I have no answers,
I guess we'll just have to see
just thoughts, lately I havent been able to write anything extraordinary... but I feel like perhaps just writing down my thoughts may help me get back into that groove
witchy woman Apr 2017
i used to  have something to write about
i used to read just to escape
i used to draw to see what I could create
i used to paint my very last sorrow
i used to throw caution to wind
and not give a **** about tomorrow.
i used to dye my hair different colours and not care about the result.
i used to find new music, good music
then my guitar I would consult
i used to bus everywhere with just my headphones in enjoying the scenery.
i used to see my parents at least once in the evening.  
when warm weather came i used to board until my legs shook and my body was hot a sweaty.
i used to do all these things,
then again,
I used to be me
witchy woman Apr 2017
Venus is in retrograde
King of Hearts,
Queen of Spades.

Or Queen of Diamonds, is perhaps
more suited to me.
For when did I start to think
so materialistically.
witchy woman Mar 2017
reruns of old shows just to distract me
providing some ease for my restless mind. my head aches, my eyes burn and sting and swell from the tears that spring up whenever I think of the past.
every second growing older, me and everyone around me.
Is it selfish to say, that I'd live the first ten years of my life until my dying day?
I just can't take people I love dying around me. I can't do it the thought itself kills me. It keeps me up at night.
I can't live this thing called life.
witchy woman Mar 2017
pillows of wind, freezing the minuet dew drops on each blade of grass,
tiny ice goblets
dutifully every morning.

it whistles, slipping between
the barren trees,
curling around the crumbling houses
built in the '70s
a time when,
they may have kept us sheltered from Mother Nature's ghastly wrath.  

whispering against the window panes, creeping past the glass frames.
icy hands claw their way across the floor, up the bed posts
beneath the sheets.  

gliding cold fingers up my legs,
down my spine. wrapping themselves around my neck,
the fire in my eyes has died.
sweet release, a gradual fading light.

my heartbeat slows,
though inches away,
warm & unaware you lie.
boney tendrils squeezing
as I drift to my glacial demise.
Next page