Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Drinking to forget is cliché.
I drink to remember.

Liquor floods my chest,
Thawing the icy heart,
The heart that beats defiantly,
Despite being apart.

You swim back into view,
Smiling, happy, joyous.
I'd never seen such beauty,
What was wrong with us?

Like the clock in the woods,
Together by some design.
We ticked in sync,
Who crossed what line?

I must think myself lucky,
Two blissful years we had.
You gave me life,
For that I am glad.

But time moves on,
And I do with regret.
I can put you away,
Back in the drinks cabinet.
Snow drifts like a lost child from the heavens.
Bringing premonitions of my youth.
Blanketing over the present.
Hiding the world under a temporary beauty.

Observed from my lofty window,
Flakes as large as hands glide to earth.
I wish I could touch them.
I wish they could cover me.
The silence is oppressive.
The quiet weighs heavy in my head.
When all is silent.
The thoughts creep in.
The things you've said,
The things I've done.
It is on the calmest nights,
When I am in the most turmoil.
It is on the calm and quiet evenings
when I remember my worth,
and that is not much.
As much as I want to be happy,
I'm afraid I'd forget how to make words beautiful.
The most beautiful words
come from the most broken people.
And poets are the shattered ones.
If I was happy,
What if I forgot how to be a poet?
 Dec 2014 Lynn Greyling
Just Melz
"You can't really love someone you've never met."


          He's the first thing on my mind
   when I open my eyes,
             the last thing I think about
    before I go to sleep,
           he's in my thoughts all
    the moments in between,
his face takes away the nightmares
             and fills all my dreams.
       *
How is this not love?
When we were six weeks old
We smiled and connected
For a lifetime.

For a lifetime
Following,
We forget
How easy it is
To make connections
With just a smile.
 Dec 2014 Lynn Greyling
ottaross
We walked home
In the late autumn darkness.
The cold north wind
That tore at our faces on the way out
Now pushed at our backs.

Just a quick pint at the local.
Gloved fingers intertwined now
As we walk those few blocks home.
A few elusive stars swimming in the pitch.

Silver slivers of low clouds hang
Canopies over our houses
Reflecting city lights.
We shiver but still wait a few moments
To look at the night
Before we enter the warm bear-hug
Of our glowing home.
Next page