Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Isabel Sykes Jul 2014
The 8th of September
1997, in the afternoon
I was given opportunity
I was given the prospect
Of a future
As bright as I was willing to make it
But were my talents laid out for me
On the hospital bed?
Were my mistakes and regrets
Already etched
Somewhere on the little red body?
Was my death already decided
Immovable, inevitable
The second those tiny eyes opened?
Was I a pawn in someone's game?
Little fingers clamped shut against
The world
Did I have a chance at all?
To change what was written?
Me. A tiny, vulnerable sack of organs
Me. Another child destined to dissolve
Into the system, just another number
Or Me. A minuscule life, full of endless Possibility and hope, a miracle

We can choose which way to see it
Isabel Sykes Jun 2014
I met you at a party first
Music, dancing, drinking
We met, we kissed, it was a blur
No nerves, no need for thinking

Your eyes were kind, they drew me in
I wanted you to know me
I was alone, I couldn't love
I wanted you to show me

I met you in the real world
Your character intrigued me
You were sweet, you made me laugh
I liked the way you teased me

I met your heart and, over time
I captured it and called it mine
I met you when you lay in bed
I met the thoughts inside your head

I met you angry, tired and sad
Jealous, happy, drunk and mad
I watched you fall asleep and then
I met you when you woke again

I know that there is so much more
I've barely scratched the surface yet
But the parts of you I see, I love
And I'm so happy that we met
Isabel Sykes Jun 2014
We painted the kitchen yellow
And the room was full of light
A sunny, egg yolk yellow
Warm and bold and bright

We painted the kitchen yellow
The ceiling, walls and floor
We painted every inch of it
From the window to the door

We painted the kitchen yellow
And the whole room seemed to smile
So we painted all the others too
(It took us quite a while)

We painted all rooms yellow
The house did glow with pride
And it looked so very beautiful
That we painted the outside

We painted the house yellow
It lit up the whole street
And we stood beaming next to it
Bright yellow from head to feet
Isabel Sykes Jun 2014
Early morning, as the haze lifts
And the mind drifts
What do you see?

As the dust falls
And the blackbird calls
From in his tree

Curtains back
Vision black
When the mind is free

Pink hue world
Fingers unfurled  
Do you think of me?
Isabel Sykes Jun 2014
Carve your name into my thigh
Brand my chest with your hopes
And scratch your fears into my back
And I'll never forget

Rip a hole in my stomach
And place your faith in me
Break open my rib cage
Light a fire under my heart

Burn your love into my flesh
Drill it into my skull
I want to always feel your presence
Scar me forever
Isabel Sykes May 2014
He was frost on a spider's web
A cat's undisturbed sleep
A book with ancient, yellowed pages
A summer storm, the silence under water
A fire crackling in a grate

He was beautiful and comforting
As well as raw and unnerving
His flaws were written all over him
Carved into his face like decoration
He was art

His breath was the tide
The world shifted
With every crash, upon the shore
In and out
Constant and inevitable

When he spoke it was morning
The light through the curtains
And when he laughed it was night time
When the world falls silent
And I'm the only one awake

His eyes knew my face
They knew me too I think
And he was my right arm, as well as my head
He was the first step off the cliff
And the fall was sweet
Isabel Sykes May 2014
The books on my shelf, I haven't read
I'm early to rise and late to bed
Spots on my chin and sweaty palms
I never wake up to my morning alarms

I should be revising, my room is a mess
My hair is a train-wreck, I must confess
No summer clothes, no shoes for prom
Where did this horrible stomach come from?

Six exams down, a hundred to go
What happens if my grades are low?
So much to do, so much to fear
Just count down the days til summer is here
Next page