I gather smells from
the garden near
the well
where
every drop drank
will be worth
my toil.

.

"So quiet that I might hear my own heart beat if it weren't broken"

Your silence wraps me like a worn blanket,
thin and frayed, providing no warmth,
no protection from the cold that invades
my every pore as I sit here
shivering with fear, questioning every
shadow moving outside of the window,
lurking, as if sneering
at this emptiness drenching my soul
with worry and doubt

Lost inside these four walls,
stained and patterned of past dreams,
folding within the plaster nightmares
and faded rectangles where
pictures of us once hung,
smiling faces, memories
I miss those times, our times,
God I miss you

My eyes wet, red and swollen,
nervously seeking any minute reassurance,
even the faintest of whispers
that you somehow still care
And as I listen, counting dust particles
in the muted sunlight,
cowering in this corner,
hearing only silence
echoing in the empty chambers
of my broken heart

She was ethereal.
She would walk her way back home under the moonlight in the freezing winter nights. She was made out of pain and nostalgia. Not even sweet death could compare to her pale face, always covered by her tangled dark hair. She used to lie in bed wishing to be somewhere as cold as she felt, dreaming of wreck and defeasence of everything she had ever known. If she wasn't reading stories, she would make them up in her damaged head. If the story wasn't enough, she would let her demons eat the last nerves that somehow had made it through.
She felt alone yet constantly watched over. She was hoping for someone to stay around. She was hoping to be someone else's muse. She wanted them to ache, burn inside, scream at the top of their lungs just like she did. She wanted to be the reason. But deep inside she knew nobody would turn back to her.
She thought she was out of place, out of this world, made of outer space. But she was not. She was just a girl. She bled, needed and loved. She thought her tragically beautiful soul was a waste.
She's been missing for years now.
Sometimes, when everything comes down all at once and the weight of the world gets too hard to hold up, I still can feel her, after all this time. Sometimes I think I can see her wandering, floating around like the daydream she was.
The thought of her leaving forever stabs my chest every night.
And I can't sleep.
Just like she did before.
She's my muse but she never knew.

The young seeds unsown
buried beneath
long forgotten granite reasons
a waste of stone
and otherwise arable soil
which now lies fallow and barren
like the ancient womb
from which they were given way
unsafely into the world
of parks and laughter
of tears and monumental alibis
for another's selfish desire
to raise a flag upon a distant hill
and bury beneath it
like supporting struts
the very bones of our future.

A Lover Should ......
Enchant
Your soul
Mesmerise
Your mind
While bewitching
Your body
Fitting together
Like the proverbial glove
Treasure
Your dreams
Share
Your sorrows
See eternity
Hidden in your eyes
Leap
Into the unknown
Be brave
And true
Honour
Their own heart
Love
Themselves too
Fascinate
Captivate
Elevate
Take your breath away
Lie spellbound in your arms
Cherish your value
A Lover Should
Only ....
Love
You .....

(C) Pixievic

Feeling reminiscent for something I have not experienced before.

I am longing for something that I could not possibly recollect -

Out of my reach / too terribly close for comfort.

It's like a hurt without all of the pain.

My heart's feelin heavy for a burden that's not mine to carry. Kinda scary how sympathy seeps straight through me that way.

I don't understand it: How I grieve for others though their suffering is foreign to me.

Why does their anguish feel more at home than my own? Does the intensity vary? Oh, rarely, but not unfamiliar.

It's a curse to be wistful of an unknown - an invisible twist of a knife and the stab's dulled.

I am juxtaposed I suppose - when you feel so much, everyone's aches start to run similar.