When you run your fingers through his hair,
They burn as hot as the orange strands
That streak through the red of his locks
Which are too warm these fall nights.

You’re not sure when you realized that
He wasn’t like you,
Human and soft enough to be pricked by the knife’s edge
That he playfully dragged across his tongue
While looking at you with eyes that refracted the amber light of his soul.

He’s not sure when he realized that he’d stay,
Far past the summer when you met
On the sandy banks of the lake that swallowed light
Until it was the same deep blue of your eyes,
Binding him to your side long after the sun set
And the rays upon the bed’s sheets had faded
Into a warm glow in the dark.

When he runs his hands over your toes,
Cooled by the coming winter
That wraps you up in wool sweaters
And leaves you huffing as he walks by in only jeans,
He realizes that he dare not leave
You to grow cold these coming nights.

Okay, I did it, I had to drive
a smouldering stake in his eye
screaming he lashed out

and in the panic, he couldn't see
with his other eye either
That was it, a good story

that I liked to tell, but
apparently, it's not good enough
for the sailors of today

who have seen skulls
in the Mount Etna caves
with a large hole in the middle

One-eyed giants died there
worthy of a hero
like me, they say

but I do know
that they were elephants
one-trunked quadrupeds

What is the matter with people
that they rather believe in fantasies
than in true, hard life?

Somewhere in the middle of the forrest,
a most peculiar bridge exists.
There is no path to it, no lake under it to rest.
It seems rather safe to cross, no dangers at your fists.

It has no purpose to be there, there is nothing on the other side.
When you are on top of it, nothing seems that different at all.
It's a small boat long in size, and three tree-trunks wide.
It's not that high, and the edges will prevent anyone to fall.

It's made with cobblestone and moss.
Nothing too modern or too old.
It showed nature who's boss.
It's been there for centruries I'm told.

When looking underneath, nothing's all that weird.
There's just dirt, leaves and grass to be seen.
It's not to be admired or be feared.
Nobody knows what the bridge is supposed to mean.

Somewhere in the middle of the forrest in my mind,
a most peculiar bridge is just standing there.
There is no path to lead you to it, or nothing at all to find.
There is no reason at all, anyone would care.

I'd say I get lost in your eyes,
but I know them so well
that they feel like home


© L.F.

I wrote this on the plane,
With Julie London crooning in my ears,
The light of the lamp above on my face,
My feet propped against the panel front.

I wrote this on the plane,
Thinking of the clouds passing by,
In the depth of the night,
Like batman on the prowl.

I wrote this on the plane,
The front seats were free,
And so was I,
In the still  of the night.

I wrote this on the plane,
Way past everyone’s bedtime,
The ecstasy of the lilting tones,
The thrill of the shadows around and within me.

I wrote this on the plane,
Just feeling alls right with the world,
Just in that moment,
I could dream and feel closer to you.

Yes I could, Yes I am,
Stars fill the sky,  
And thoughts of us fill my moments too,
I feel joy,
So I wrote this on the plane.

In winter's mist, the magic swirled,
as darkness descended on the earth,
reflected in water, a Dragon's birth.

His scales glistened of red and gold,
his eyes sparkled green and bold,
his mystical beauty touched my soul.

His mighty wings unfurled for flight,
'twas such a wondrous sight,
to watch his twist and turns in the night.

As his wings danced in silent waves,
his solitary stare captured my gaze,
his power and presence held absolute sway,
as I awaited my fate.

Then, down he swooped through the air,
seemingly without a care,
and I wonder how I would fare.

Towards me he came,
softly calling my name,
his snout ablaze with his flame.

As he landed on the snow,
He said I am friend not a foe,
Come, let us go.

Flapping his wings we did rise,
up, up into the sky,
eyes shining bright,
having never known such delight.

ALesiach © 09/26/2014

Escape ,
that's what I would do
when things would get tough.
I would binge,
dream, eat, read & scroll.

I would create another world
where I would live,
free to be.
The place I would
forget about my happenings,
but this was not reality.

I would procrastinate and escape,
but my reality would await
to cuff me away.

With every escape,
my reality would become
a struggle to face

To everyone I was living life
but was I?
For my body was anchored to this world
While my head flew to another

Then came a time
When I no longer wanted to hide
Even though I knew
I did not have the appetite
Because my reality had
become so hard to emotionally swallow
But there was no choice
but to face

Courage
Step by Step
Patience through it all
Change finally came across
And my reality had become a better place

You are alive at night,
dancing in my dreams.
For our love thrives in my heart,
when it's dead in reality.