Neva Flores Varga Smith

Neva Flores Varga Smith Mar 2013

When the last memory says
I have to remember
all the layers that whisper in these rooms.
My fingers become blind
to the passing warmth of years
my lips have forgotten
way too soon.

I always knew
the rambling name
of the nights when I smiled
at the voices of the stars.
This is when I felt the air lingering
inside of a time
when I knew I could stand
where you are.

Faded hours fall
from my childhood scars
like solemn words set fire in streams
to all I speak.
Still, I accept your arms
and give you all my love,
knowing.......
no breath of mine will sleep.

A knowing is left
like a sound subdued in my ear,
and I savor the notion
that your words lie underneath.
I read each line
one more time....until,
the end of us
is a tear
I'll never weep.

Copyright @2013 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Neva Flores Varga Smith Mar 2013

Tears Cry Tears of Their Own

Suddenly my thoughts run deeper
and become folded
inside the scent of the air
until they pull on my heart-strings
and watch
my tears cry tears of their own.
And I laugh and smile,
pretend to be happy
as if I don't remember
you're gone.

However, sorrow brings truth
as it closes in
to unravel the seconds
of each sleepless night
I have held for years unknown.
And I realize,
it's time to move forward,
stop letting my tears
cry tears
of their own.

Copyright *Neva Flores @2013

Neva Flores Varga Smith Mar 2013

While a Noose Squeezes Harder

Because I know what you do
when the tide is yours to honor
and how my heart cries for that
which is not my own.
I breathe in your existence
while a noose squeezes harder
around all your touch has ever held
and gently known.

Copyright @2013 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Neva Flores Varga Smith Feb 2013

Dust Gathering on My Rhymes

I am suspended in a time that is lost
in the laughter
flowing from my lips.
And no one ever told me,
there is no way out of this.

I am past recognizing solid ground
and burning
from the memories I keep.
Still, my Muse sings a lullaby
while my destiny weeps.

Paper flowers litter the floorboard
of my heart
and go up in smoke inside my head.
I can't control
a single breath ahead.

My thoughts choose to stay inside the ink
where there's no risk
of living outside this time.
I can feel dust gathering...
on my rhymes.

Copyright @2013 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Neva Flores Varga Smith Feb 2013

The Broken Wing of a Friend

There is  a winding road that passes  by my lips
and runs across my skin.
When I cry it crosses  the music  of my face
‘til my heart sings again.

A long time ago, I could not understand,
how to have the will
to let things go.
Now I’ve learned to let that winding road
display what I did not know.

Sometimes I yearned to growl  and taste  the pain
of  the  tear’s of  another heart.
I forgot  to take a place  inside their skin ,
feel the truth of their hurt.

There is a winding road that passes by my lips
and runs across my skin.
It  reminds me  to see  what lies underneath ,
the broken wing of a friend.

Copyright @2013 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

Neva Flores Varga Smith Feb 2013

Ink Burned Upon My Name

An unfading melody fills my life
with a beauty
that covers my scars with ink
of a rhyme's desire
I can’t dismiss.
And  I remember,
some things, move smooth as silk
like  laughter filled words
of a lover’s kiss.

The ink
which is burned upon my name
sleeps with my every hope
searching only…….
for happiness.
It looks at me with an expectant face
in those moments
when my mind can’t rest.

The slightest touch of this  melody
leaves me waiting to shine
with outstretched hands.
My heart overflows with the beauty
of a thousand lights
changing color
at my command.

I can feel
the ink of my soul
writing……
on each and every breath
this melody breathes.
While the ink burned upon my name
finds the happiness
it needs.

Neva Flores Varga Smith Jan 2013

Dressed in Sadness

My secret thoughts reside
in the backyard of my existence
where darkness cries out in shivers
clear to my bones.
I wake up to find them
packed neatly on shelves in my mind
and wish I could just crawl away,
be left alone.

They come from my emotions,
dressed in sadness
with no intention of ever comforting
what they transform.
There are days
when they make a decision
to rearrange the places I stand
until I am left without hope,
forlorn.

My secret thoughts are the lyrics of my being
which bid my heart
to walk on a white canvas
of the purest snow.
Oh the damage
that could be done
if I spoke them aloud,
my true feelings revealed
with these eyes full of woe.

I cannot bend or I'll break
so I hide on these shelves
in my mind,
packed neatly away
from all that challenges
my tree of life,
such as falling leaves.
My secret thoughts control
how my tongue refrains
from speech,
So my true feelings,
you will.....
never see.