She measures love in ink and by the storm brewing in the sky She measures love in torment and by the look she finds in your eye
She measures moments in seconds itching movements beneath her skin She measures moments in ecstasy aching touches that breathe with sin
She measures a look with a jaundiced eye and a gesture that's so worthless She measures a look with a sigh then turns back to something more worth it
She aches to be touched but cannot stand a hand that's raised toward her She aches to be spoken to in a soft sweet voice angels sighing in harmony is what she prefers
She kisses all that touches her lips be it poison or profound She anchors herself to the hands at her hips it keeps her head from floating to the clouds
A solid point of connection is the world she has so often tried that has been wasted by much rejection *she writes such perfect lies
To know life is to understand that we, each of us, is a lover, selfless, kind, demure–but also that we are, simultaneously, haters, selfish, cruel, avaricious; and that in that very contradiction, is life.
Early, this silent earth in the stillness before sound comes before the sky, the narrow line of light that forms my ears not yet attuned to this world search for noise, waiting for the first bird then soon a chiming bell of birds a cactus wren that comes to drink of sun or deeply sweet, the air with mourning doves that woo and coo before the dawn a soothing balm, a bliss that fills my head
do i have the power to end you will the force of my words make you go away my look, will it stop you in your tracks and make you cower like a whipped dog in the corner do i possess that much control? i wish i knew for if i did i might just be tempted to use it on you to make you disappear forever.
looking at her tear soaked eyes i see real pain not a show of but a feeling of so deep, deep within her chest cradles a broken heart destroyed beyond repair this girl has lost it she has been punched with the final cut that has brought her down down down torturing the emptiness of her soul yielding an inflamed wound leaving her to suffer
alone
having been kicked one too many times she's shackled with everlasting despair.
watching the petals of a flower gently following the wind reaching the highest of highs somersaulting towards fields of color before floating softly towards earth to create beauty naturally.