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 Dec 2016 Chris Fortune
Isabelle
Back then, whenever I see you,
My stomach flutters and my cheeks turns into a red hue
It was like the butterflies
         are singing and dancing gracefully at the sight of you

But now, the butterflies turn into wasps
That whenever I see you, I am losing my grasp
Eating my whole system
          and instead of love, an excruciating pain
Butterflies and wasps, which is which?



Been very busy lately...
 Dec 2016 Chris Fortune
Isabelle
•••
Life is brief

...and fleeting


...again fleeting


...and just fleeting
•••
Live well. Easier said.
 Nov 2016 Chris Fortune
Aeerdna
I am full of memories
painted on our ceiling
when we were just two kids
and the rain wasn't hurting anyone

do you remember the smell of smoke
coming from the leaves our mother used to set fire to?
remember the November sunsets
when we'd play stupid games
and none of us was a winner?

remember how we used to sit in front of the fire
playing cards and drinking wine
we thought our lives would be like a smooth sailing on the ocean
yet here we are
miles away from each other
and the music doesn't sound the same
and our cards are missing
still no one is a winner

still
the smell of burning leaves wakes me up at night
still
we are apart
and the wine we drink daily
has no taste
and we keep on playing
even though our lives are like a wrecked ship
in the middle of an ocean that's always dark
we are still lying to ourselves
but deep inside we do know
the wine has changed its colour

and so did our eyes.

much  darker they are
much clumsier our fingers
much number the feelings

and
somewhere,
the leaves are falling
and they are burning
we just can't smell them
                       anymore.
 Nov 2016 Chris Fortune
Isabelle
I hate hating you
and
I love loving you

But sometimes,

I love hating you
and
I hate loving you

But most of the times

**No matter how much I hate loving you
I still love loving you
Redundancy.
Every second I live,
every breath I breathe,
every moment I exist.
I need You, Lord.

Every face I see,
every voice I hear,
every wounded heart.
Every soul I want to help.
I need You, Lord.

I need You, Lord.
Every minute.
Every hour.
Every day.
Every year.
For my whole life.
I need You, Lord.

I come to You in
my frail humanity.
Shine the Light of Your
face upon me.
For, oh, how I need Thee.
Inspired by the hymn "I Need Thee Every Hour," by Annie Hawks (1872).
i wonder* how many times
i cross the mind of another
they cross mine all the time
the main character of my dreams

i wonder if they ever think of me
or if the care is on a one way road
a road that only leads to one place
to an indescribable feeling
of emptiness and loneliness

and not because i never see them again
but because i will never see them the same way

and when this main character
becomes fundamentally different
the story must change too
it's inevitable

and no matter how hard i try
i would never be able to return
to return to the same dreams
and so although

i wonder about the truth
i also wonder if
i want to know it
and if i can handle it

but
i can only wonder
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