curiously examines the corner
as she searches for shadows
cast against the black abyss
of her sleeping mind
when the lights come on
she hides in the cracks
waiting, waiting to awaken
from the dreamstate that
some call life

So many people frustrated
and locked in. No income.
They don’t know what to do where to begin!
Now it’s the time to read a book
What’s inside you , take a look
Write down what and how you feel
Gives one a great relief and can save a soul.

Shell ✨🐚

Moon sailor, you watch pensively,
Hoping to catch sight of the evening moon
Lost at sea, your heart searches
for a lighthouse to guide you back home,
But clouds wash out your bones
As you make your abode in the sky....

....Dreaming

Rose tears cover the sky
a blanket of snow rests on the surface
and the sun hides behind blushing clouds
morning comes waving letters
written by golden moments
infused with memories of the past
and comes hope,

disguised as an uncertain future

I sit on the edge of uncertainty
Confused about the world
And about my place in it
Questioning all that I once knew to be true

I feel like I am going to fall off
Fall off the edge of a cliff
Except that this is not a cliff
This is the end of the road and nothing in the abyss

The road ahead is blurred
I do not see anything in my future
I only see something when I turn back
What I see is a road that I was never sure of

I am not alone on the edge, but I feel alone
Because others cannot understand
They seem so full of hope, unlike me
Maybe they see something in the abyss

It is their abyss
Not mine
I am stuck on the edge
I live in my own age of uncertainty

Far from folk who would listen, you call out into the wind;
"If only you knew just how lovely you are."
And from the mountains
However faint, it calls back;
If only you knew just how lovely you are.

But listen close to its call, and the voice rings familiar.

a trembling candle flame
spluttering and unsure of itself
but casting a warm light nonetheless
you blew it out
and then used the still hot tip
and pressed it to
my wrists
my neck
my heart
and said ‘we can still be friends’
i knew it wouldn’t last
and i was right

the problem with “unspoken understandings”-
words never said but meant to be known, is that sometimes
there is no understanding at all,
just hushed words
whispered into a telephone
with a muted receiver.