Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Nicole Bataclan Sep 2019
My first day of school
A backpack full of jitters;
My mother’s eyes
Say more
With that one last wave
At the door.

To live
Is to tick boxes off the list.
The more, the merrier —
Then, the more sparse
Only a new beginning
Can bring.

Do we grow bolder
Writing more chapters —
Now we take time
To reconsider.

When was the last time
I trembled,
Showered in waterfalls
Of the unknown

The pinnacle —
I would rather miss what was
Than what could have been.
Nicole Bataclan Mar 2019
I just ordered
My third cup of coffee
After all, I am in good company
Words spilled before me.

Could they have known —
I will always look for
The smell of old books
In this digital world.

Words, my words,
My heart treasures
To put pen to paper.

Time is unkind
For a writer,

Nothing is ephemeral.

You are
A page marked by a folded corner
A love I will come back to
In the future.
Nicole Bataclan Feb 2019
I will order
Those extra fries
Like the best things
In life

One is never enough.

If everything
We have been through
Did not put a halt —
A story
We keep coming back to

Are we moving forward
Or am I in love
With a bookmark?
Nicole Bataclan Feb 2019
Do not take it too seriously,
Following a recipe to a tee

Unless you are making
Cupcakes,
No need to fake it
‘Til you make it,
It is a sweet life
You are baking.

A creature of the moment
A pinch of salt
Is the secret

Your concoction
Puffs up in the oven —

The frosting,

Make it
‘Til you become it.
Nicole Bataclan Feb 2019
My niece

Hugging me tighter

Than usual;



Words spill

On my heart

Making a mess

My mind

Will not erase;



Kissing me sweet

Clenching my fists;



The big things

Rest on that microscopic grin

On the right corner

Of my lips --



That is where you lie,

In the space between

My lines.
Nicole Bataclan Oct 2018
I let him in
Through the back door

He alone
Holds the password.

Seldom knocks
But often enough;

Through the tiny peephole
Of the unresolved,

I take the chain
Off the door.

I keep my skirt
While he unbuttons my heart

That door policy is rough
But he earns my trust;

That love hurts
'Til a gentle push.

Unlock
The secrets to my core;

The fissure
Of pleasure

For a full-frontal
Of my soul.

He sneaks
In the back door

Only he knows
The password;

No one is welcome
But one.
Nicole Bataclan Aug 2018
She was,
She used to be,

I still startle

There will no longer be
Any new memories.

I look up
When the skies cry
When there is not a cloud in sight

I talk about her in the past tense now.

Eye on my arm
God squeezes my heart,

I remember the feel
Of toying with her
Sagging skin
’Til mine ages,
I will beam at my ink.

I talk about her in the past tense now.

On nights I cry,
On fine nights
I burst with life,

She cradles my heart.
Next page