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OliviaAutumn Sep 2015
This was a place I used to call home,
Now it is just a building with no name,
No touch of endearment on the doormat,
No letters of love but maybe they are lost in the post -
A name is just a word
But I have never heard my footsteps walk
These halls with an echo following
Like another ghost woven into the tapestries
Hanging on the walls,
Old photographs of memories that time
Turned into black and white,
The colours of an old life lost and forgotten
In this empty abyss the world has left behind.
My fingers trace the smile of a young girl
That I believe I used to be,
Innocence untouched by the man
She would fight to unsee.
This used to be home
And now my body is just a shell
I long to crack under my feet,
Feel the bough break
And look at the damage underneath
A disordered house is a disordered mind
But people don't see the fight thats inside
These walls that are shrinking to make me less space
So I can go to bed knowing, there is less I can waste.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2015
She was a girl no one could understand.
Her body was her voice
And she was screaming for someone to hear
The unwept tears that were caged by that night,
When she learnt stillness after the storm
Was the earths brave face mourning
What was lost in the fight.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2015
Envelope me in your love
And return me to sender
As darling I will always keep turning up
On your porch on a summers afternoon,
And without any words you'll know
That this kiss was meant for you.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2015
Hand me down the love you had before me
And sow gently the tears in your sleeve
So I can wear your heart on arms made
To hold you as you drift through sleep.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2015
I traced the crack in her smile
And spent the rest of my life trying to find ways
To fill her with laughter, love and fumbles beneath
Freshly washed sheets.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2015
She stood there in a world full of glamour,
The art deco nature of her edges
Synchronising with the slow movements of sound
That slurred her into a haze
Of small sips of *** and salt that sat on her lips
Like an unwelcome guest.
She was out of place, a photograph on a window
Pained by being made with the wrong grace
Of those before.

She saw herself in the eyes of those around her,
Reflections of those parts she kept hidden
In a suitcase beneath her bed
Ready to leave behind,
Desperate to discard
The shadows traced by candlelight.
And she'd given up on the fight and heaven
For the pocket watch she kept in her heart
Had a small inscription
Forever engraved in time,
OliviaAutumn Aug 2015
Time is a woman with a whip and a chain
Who tells you healing demands submission and pain.
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