Book of odes

Left over in the corner
Dust ridden yet cherished
Torn between touching it
And letting it go
Full of my heart
Yet baron
So may times
My fingers have grazed the rim
Gently
Like caressing the ridges
Of a flower petal
Flower petals yes ....
How often we press them between the pages
My flower petals
I've blown off the dust
Feel its aura stir up the butterflies
still in my heart
My life
A life I'm no longer living
Yet I still can't let go
She's there
" we " are there
I put it back down
I can't re live the love
Not without the pain.
It was her book of odes
Penned in my blood
from my loving heart.
Where it still seems to reside
Within the walls of the binder
It hurts to much to remember
Those words
Songs from my soul.
Left over , in the corner.
Cherished and estranged .

Broken hearted memories,
like shadows ,
always,
over your shoulder ,
In your ear
right behind you ,
unescapable
Always touching you
Somewhere

Everywhere

She's in every crossword
She haunts the radio
she's in my mind, memories blurred
Cant help but chase her shadow

I feel my heart still palpitate
With just the utterance of her name
All my life , to her , I'd gravitate
For no one else, i feel the same

She's in the stars, for each an ode
Under the moon I'd weep
I think of all the " I love you's " told
And I cry myself to sleep

She's in every, unoccupied thought
I can't help but to endear
But despite all this, its all for naught
Because she's everywhere, but here .

"Every unoccupied thought
Seems to find its way
To her "

Reclaiming "myself "

It's been so long since,
I bathed in the pool of my  imagination.
The place where my thoughts turn, into words ,
I choose to pen.
I could swim in a garden of wildflowers.
Close my eyes and imagine the universe ,
And wonder,
Wonder if,
my entire existence is just a thought process in someone else rationale.
What if the universe itself , is buried inside someone's mind.
Its been so long since I've held my breath, and dove deeper,
opened my eyes and inhaled.
Take in my surroundings ,
Hear the muffled voice of my beating heart.
Da dum da dum da dum....
Washing away,
those the memories of hurt.
I used to swim in "our " affection , never needing to look further for an ode .
Now she's gone , those waters stagnate.
I had gotten so used to swimming in milk and honey.
I was lost.
Now on the threshold of my own existence.
The pith of my creativity
My Nebula
The time to jump in again.
Swim in my own correlation of ink.
Yes...
Its been so long since I've bathed in my imagination

Remnants of the scars

Stronger than steel
And sharper than the saber it had formed.
Explosive , nearly deadly , and debated.
Leaving Scars....
Scars etched under the skin and lasting beyond forever.
Weapons ?
Stabbing , striking , bludgeoning , no age restriction on this arsenal.
Concealed ?
No need , I'm sure everyone has one.
The remnant mar itself,  
more painful than the wound it came from.
The genesis of all aggression
An instant to apply , and a lifetime to master.
If not handled cautiously
If let slip
Such a cherished understanding of everything that is meaningful can disintegrate.
A paradox ,
A tiny wound ?
A gaping blow ?
For do we ever really comprehend the force of our words ?, the pain they can induce? and the internal scars that may never subside ?
Some of the most grievous scars , are the ones we can't even see !
The deadliest weapon ever known
Utterances of the tongue
Words
And the remnants of the scars!

Linen walls

A little nook
Pillows shaped into a shell almost as if the walls of a peanut
Enough to hide a full grown person
A fortress of sorts , a safe haven
A shield to the gripping fingers of a days turmoil
A place to burrow
A linen cocoon
The threshold of your dreams
A " foxhole"
Nestled away from the outside world
Covers up to my neck
I let the walls envelop me
I close my eyes and immerse my being into this nocturnal abyss
And fool myself into being safe from my conscious
As I drift myself off to sleep
In my own little dream capsule
Forged in the face of the comforters
and braced by the walls of the pillows
Until the paddles of dawn row their way through the moat of now " yesterday's " perils.
At least for the night I was behind my linen walls.
Enveloped in a shroud uninhabited thought
With the hopes of a painless sleep ........