Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
the ocean is our
quarantine

limbs wrapped in
seaweed

clinging to the skin
like a secret

sea moss threatens
to weigh us down

down to the sea
bed

where mermaids linger
with their siren songs

false tears shed

we are one breath
of salty air away

from drowning

and yet the waves
wash us to shore

like flotsam

and we are no longer
a prisoner

of the sea
You are a lighthouse
leading me to shore

when the ocean tries
to consume me

you reach out your hand
and pull me up above

the waves

we will sit in the sand
building castles like children

a thousand pieces of glass
shattered but rebuilt

into palaces that we
can one day call home
there is nothing here
but ashes

and yet we rise
from the dust

building a home
brick by brick

stone by stone

the foundations of our love
our hearts yet to blossom

in full bloom

buds in waiting
flowers in purgatory

but we will unfurl, soon
we will flourish
In summer,
we wait for the green leaves
to turn brown

the rolling motion
of our lives, trapped
in the changing of
the seasons

we wait, we wait

for the crisp mornings to dawn,
and afternoons with hands
wrapped around steaming
mugs of tea

deep conversations
across kitchen tables
at 3am - waiting for the
world to wake

be certain what you
wish for, is not just the end
of that terrible sensation
of prickling heat
on flesh
in my room,
littered with the wrappers of food
I stole and ate in secret

in my body,
unbrushed hair and puffy cheeks
playing a melody of loathing
on my flesh covered bones

in my heart,
wild with longing for excitement
and adventure. Untouched by
human hands, but not by human
words

I am the bitter root
of shame
the twisting torment
of guilt

and I pray every night,
but God closed his ears to me

long ago.
an incomplete life
can be made whole
by love

but a fractured love
can never be made whole
by a full life

work, drugs, money
are pale substitutes
for a welcoming
heart

bitter medicine
for the feel of another’s arms

I am incomplete
and searching for a love

unlike any I have ever known

a love to make me
whole
to be an un -
pinned butterfly

in a world of
constraints

and chains

is to be more
than free

it is to be
miraculous
Next page