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Luisa C Jan 11
Why, I ask the sheets of my bed,
the warmth of the covers on me, the pillow rested comfortably.
Why, I ask the shadows in the corner of my room,
the specks of paint on my walls, the chipped wood on my door.
Why, I ask the hour of midnight,
the endless well of darkness, the undisrupted quietness.
The flickers of a flame, the ripples of an ocean,
the peak of a mountain, the trunk of a tree,
the sand of a beach, the coldness of snow,
the petals of a flower, the whistling of a breeze.
Why, I ask the world.
But it keeps its lips sealed tight.
Luisa C Nov 2021
words of venom
dripping with poison
tongue armed with blades sharpened

words of contempt
soaked in malice
and barely unrestrained violence

directed at the unsuspecting victim
darts hurled as hard as i can throw them
piercing deep and scarring wide
tearing through layers of fragile pride

words of disgust
burning with scorn
lips parted for a torrent of rage

words of hatred
snarled in distaste
and unleashed from the tongue’s cage

aimed with precision and thoughtless indulgence
a gleeful abundance of countless insults
surging restlessly and encouraging the feed
the ardent addiction of foolish greed

but the words always manage to come back
recoiling at first then ready to attack
because they bounce off the surface of the mirror
the reflection of my face as they cut deeper
sinking inside to wrench a hand round my throat
stopping my breath to not further demote

but the words always inflict the damage intended
and here they seep into my subconscious
watch them spread, watch them burrow
and feel them multiply my sorrows
because the words are always present at any time
they, after all, come from my own mind.
Luisa C Oct 2021
i am in a constant state of grief
for a past i cannot get back to
for a future that will never arrive
for moments that have faded
for promises stuck in time.
i am in a perpetual state of longing
for a past that won't return
for a future that will never materialise
for memories that have hidden
for hopes that turned into lies.
i am in a permanent state of desire
for a past that shows no mercy
for a future that will never be realised
for happiness that has wandered
for dreams that have lain to die.
Luisa C May 2021
The afternoon sun slides over the horizon,
giving the sky a kiss goodbye
and leaving the clouds blushing pink,
floating with bliss as they watch the sun sink

It switches places with the moon
who gives the sky a kiss hello
and is greeted with the stars' glow
Millions of dreamy eyes watch from below
as they begin the world's favourite show
The moon dances in their twinkling spotlight
receiving applause and bouquets all through the night

Once the moon is finished it gives a final bow
and slips from the stage, disappearing through the curtains
The sun then brushes the waking world
with a loving wave of its hand,
its strokes doing its own special dance,
leaving clouds fluffed and meadows shining,
song birds singing and faces smiling

And when the afternoon hour is upon the world
the dance of the two orbs start again,
circling around the planet of blue,
one a large golden flame, the other a glistening grey hue,
providing comfort and security, taking care of this little globe,
so full of potential and purity.
And the people below celebrate,
showering them with gratitude,
songs, poems, prayers, paintings and rituals,
welcoming them both with open arms
The eternal ballroom goes on until the end of time
safe and alive in everyone's hearts.
Luisa C May 2021
Old habits never die
They just stay in the shadows and hide
They lurk and linger beneath the surface of your mind
Waiting for the perfect moment to strike
Slowly creeping out when they feel it's time

Old habits never fade
They just trick you into thinking they've shrunk away
One night they're gone, then they surprise you the next day
"Remember us? We've come out to play."
Because old habits always stay

A reminder, a memory, a haunting a curse
Reciting all the things you've learnt
Retracing the steps you thought you forgot
A well rehearsed line, a feeling that doesn't subside
A vice that only grows tighter over time
Because old habits never die.
Luisa C May 2021
my heart has learnt to move to the rhythm of your touch
your fingers wave the spell, and it starts to dance
sweeps across my skin, and it slips into a trance
it has memorised the steps, and remains mesmerised
even now, long after the puppet strings have been cut,
still it sways to the memory of our dance,
any song sending it flying, mystified.
forgive its foolishness;
it is too familiar, it is too
easily reminded.
Luisa C Feb 2021
i wish life was a video recorder,
so i could capture this moment and rewind it,
or a tattoo you could imprint within your brain.
me and you in ikea, hidden in the zipped up tent,
where we laughed in whispers and kissed in secret
the muffled sound of empire of the sun drifting through the fabric,
the soundtrack to our movie, the finishing touch to our painting.
i now hang it in the gallery of my mind,
revisiting it in times where i miss you,
along with the blue plastic flower i bought for the both of us,
tucked safely above my desk, a halo reminiscent
of our glow.
i wonder if you still have yours.
and i wonder if you think of me whenever you hear that song,
echoing faintly down the halls of your internal gallery.
ikea, rhodes, december 2016. thanks for the memories.
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