But this is not ideal. I don’t fancy him. There’s no spark for me. I admire him. I have love for him. But I don’t fancy him. I find myself wanting to fancy him. Due to selfish, superficial, unemotional motivations I give him a try. He’s in ecstasy. Beyond pleased. I’m in two minds. I’m kissing him. But why? Why am I kissing him? I don’t fancy him. This is so ****** up. I tried mum. Honestly.
It came to pass that in a fiery blaze You were born Little being with the WORLD against you Tiny spark With only the tools of your own making Rock and stick Teeth for talking and hands for creating So unlike Yet so similar to those before you I felt it The shudders and shaking at your coming The whole WORLD Pausing for a second to stop and stare Baby hands Reaching towards the heavens to catch the sun A face with Intelligent eyes, that burned like your path What are you And what has your coming brought to the WORLD?
A poem from my chapbook, The child that ate the WORLD
I have lost the mark of love, Dripping emotions and the spark of dove. I have lost the warmth and connection, Kisses,hugs and all the affection. I have lost the time we spent, the farms,the places and the parks we went. My love is concentrated, dwell and brew, I have lost myself in you.
once when i was a child i sat in a field surrounded by woods
and watched sparks leap from the fire to my clothes
i remember them dancing and stinging skin hot tiny freckle burns dotting my arms
i remember the smoke rising into the sky and curling like a cat caressing the darkness
as it twisted upwards and away away
the wood broke and the scent of elderflower filled me to the brim with heady wild-smoke
and i remember thinking big eyes filled with fire my mouth just open and breathing the heat in
i want to run through that fire
to the other side within .
i have always felt a particular connection to the smell of woodsmoke and elderflower due to frequent encounters with both - particularly together - as a child. so much so that the barest scent of either sends me spiralling into another mind.
I think this is what it is, something short yet bright in my chest. Too quick to be named, yet felt with my entire being. It thrums inside of my heart, natural as sunlight through window curtains, as secretive and cheeky as a grin. This is one of the types of happiness I know.
The quick ones that make you feel you are on top of the world, despite the state of everything which says otherwise.
It is but a spark.
yeah, i just had a conversation with my best friend, and i don't know, i was with her yesterday, but just every bit of word that i exchange with her makes me eternally happy.