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Jan 2015 · 318
Untitled
You're not having a bad day;
You're just not trying to make it a good one.
Oct 2013 · 546
To Be Touched
If someone walked me to a dark place,
Put their hands on my waist
And kissed me like their long-lost lover
I'd melt in their soft, moving arms,
Put my heart in my palms
And fade into that feeling forever.
She's a little song bird trapped in a cage
Made of flesh, made of blood, made of bone
She feels so alone
She watches those eagles sore high across the sky
Spread their wings, take a leap, take a chance
Find romance

Why can't everything be as easy as they say it is?
Why can't she just take a home a piece of gold treasure that shines only for her?

The world tells us that anyone can fly
Don't shoot the messenger, but we know that's a lie
Break the chains of denial and accept it for what it is
She was born in that cage, she'll make her own happiness

A hummingbird passed by her window, free as the wind
It was lost, sang a song, felt okay
Then just... Flew away
She had never felt more alone so broke down and cried
Laid still, cuddled up, to herself
She needed help

Another bird came by her window, an eagle the colour of gold
Made of bone, made of blood, made of flesh
He stared at her and began to confess..

The world tells you that you will never fly
Hey I'm here to say, that sure is a great big lie
I'll tuck you under my wings and take you high above the stars
I've always admired you, even from afar

She was a little songbird trapped in a cage
Made of flesh, made of blood, made of bone
With happiness she could call her own
For Rhiannon,

Short in stature with the highest head of them all.
Sep 2013 · 1.2k
Narrow Black Line
She draws a narrow black line
On the outside of her eye.
"It keeps me awake", she said
But that was merely a lie.

Eyelashes covered thick,
Defined and long
To even-out the contrast
Of that black line she put on.

The day rolls by slowly,
That black line starts to fade.
Her eyelashes erode,
Yet no notice has she made.

She spies her reflection,
Screams for a bathroom - or a booth?
It isn't that long before
She discovers the truth.

There was no narrow black line
On the outside of her eye,
Though she still looked beautiful
And it eased her troubled mind.
Wrote this a few years back, it's hardly a literary work of genius but special to me none the less.

— The End —