Eliza Fairchild

Jun 2016

Walter W Hoelbling

every day we learn
how many died of violence
in any corner of the globe,
be it in wars, by terror,
fundamentalist fanatics,
gun-toting psychopaths and haters,
or all of the above

the figures seem to grow
the daily death toll makes us callous
what earlier was horror
has turned into ****** routine

so much so that
when there’s a day we do NOT hear
about some grisly ******
we feel like we have got a bargain!

#guns #****** #routine #hatecrime

Jun 2016

Tongues

If You Were a Book

If you were a book
I would grasp you with each hand
As I sink into each page -
Your poetic quicksand.
If you were a book -
My favorite book of all -
After years of gazing into you,
Your words would still enthrall.
When your binding is undone
And your cover slightly torn,
You would be just as lovely
With your pages touched and worn.
If you were a book,
I would hold you close all night.
I could read you without words;
I could read you without light.

Eliza Fairchild Jun 2016

Ember

Chemical waves crash down on receptors,
leaving me shaking and confused
My stomach winds itself into knots,
the shape of my confused and twisted thoughts.

A jumbled mess of emotions fueled on fumes.
Embers falling down like microscopic stars,
before they hit the ground with a tiny little spark.
All together enough to light my world on fire,
my only remnant a single scorched mark.

It's been a rough week...

Jun 2016

its gonna make sense

wide spaces

i am a mere word of this page
and you are the phrases i admire most that i can't have.
at least give me a proof of sentence,
that i am still part of your paragraph.
i've never thought that this boundless sea of whiteness
can be so lonesome.
the large gap between us and other words,
feels like the vastness of the ocean,
drowning me in and out of the pages.*

©IGMS

the untold story of the lonely word

#broken #sad #lonely #hurt #spaces

Eliza Fairchild May 2016

To be continued...

My weary eyelids are propped up on caffeine outlining pensive pupils,
as thoughts flicker across irises, in hazy and unclear hues.

It's about time for the fog to be lifted,
when curtain call brings an end to the last act.

Slipping headlong through time and space, memories are fading ques
Air caressing my cheeks one last time before setting down my quills.

The end of the story is near,
eyes overcast in shadowy veil.

Eliza Fairchild May 2016

Internal Matrix

At equilibrium with the world, a balanced flow in and out.
Emotions crystalline, stories hidden in chemical bonds;
ephemeral memories lost within the lattice full of doubt.
The world glimmers like the reflection of a static pond.

#memories #mind #soul #body #emotions

Eliza Fairchild May 2016

Polar Moon

I want to dance upon the surface of the ocean,
black as night, with celestial beings all around.
I want to the moon to lift me above the ground
my body sinking into the depths of the sea,
as my mind floats away to mingle with the stars.