Yaga

Don't try to be accountable of me,
if you can't even be available for me.

I'm afraid of the way you can sway my emotions.

How can I build restricted area signals on my heart,
when you so easily tear down the walls against you?

I'm afraid of you.

You've entered into me without my permission.
Yet somehow, I allow you to stay.

I think you should love a girl that writes
Live her many different imagined lives
In her vast collections of created worlds
Find her somewhere buried beneath them all
And when you find her pressed between
Scribbled pages and coffee cups filled with pens
Kiss her ink black fingers
Let them stain your lips so when she looks at you
She won’t forget
You’re the hero her books are about.

One more breath..
I promise..when I fully allow my lungs to inhale..ill listen for you.
One more exhale..upon the last release of pain from this chest..ill utter praise..
One last fragment of my heart dropping like glass on a stone surface..crumbling before you..hear my hearts plea..
Gripping the surface of the earth with all that's within me..prying at the crumbles of gravel below my knees..crawling..at the pace less than a snail...hear my heart...it wails..it sees the wholeness of all that you offer...
Scratching at hells door..knees bloodied..screaming at the top of my lungs..

I met a man.. that I believe..I have dreamt into existence.
He spoke life into my dreams, dried my tears, when I cried from my ever healing soul, planted lavender below my window sills, surfed the ups and downs of my complicated moods and patiently waits..

He's the constant, I never knew was real, the strength that keeps my back from bowing, the gentle...that soothes every doubt.

He's the description of what Love..is truly meant to be.

"Dreams" he said, "I want you to write about your dreams"
I watched his expression full face, talk with his usual infectious vibrancy...
candle flickering, between belly laughs, raw unscripted stories, uncensored truth and the feeling of complete freedom to be human, his pouring over the brim life experiences..dripped from his fingertips as he spoke with his hands.
I'm Lucky. I thought. As I sat there, sinking into his words and gentle loving soul.
Just to simply know him, to hear of his adventures, heartbreaks, falls and climb to the top of life's list of goals and successes.
So I meditated on this writing assignment...for weeks.
I've written of Love, Loss, Heartache and Regrets.
But Dreams...I've yet to fall into ink drenching grains of paper and be completely free of the ever ticking time...to do just that... Dream.

You hold in your hands
The colour of your day

i have nothing left except my breath
a sunset means another night to obsess
we are all only vessels in distress
sending out our best S.O.S

i ask "in death can i progress"?
can the dead truly be heavenly blessed?
will i pass the test without regrets?
or is this as good as it ever gets?