The worshipers gather in droves
at her feet like a clamouring congregation,
Desperate to begin the ceremony of the
giving and taking of love;
A burning love which only she can radiate.

Shamelessly they lie there,
Basking in her seductive warmth
Blessed at her selflessness while they
selfishly adorn themselves with her splendour,
Taking and taking until she cannot bear it anymore.

Soon she scorns them to the point where her
red ire is clear for all to see,
Blemishing the golden happiness she bestows upon them -
A burning love which only she can turn to pain.

Carry me gently
Over the lilting waves
Towards the Spanish sea;
Let my moonlight skin
spark the water around me and
guide my floating body to where my
soul shall rest.

I let the tide take its course,
Trusting Poseidon to grant me mercy and
pull me to my heart's crying need before it
bursts and spatters the
ocean's clarity.

Bobbing up and down like a seagull
I can taste the salty spray - it
tempts me further towards the
island of my dreams, and the
bitterness on my tongue will
transform into the sweetest nectar of
the gods, when I wash up there.

It is not the laws of men which
carry me gently over the
lilting waves, but the
buoyant love within me that
keeps me afloat and
full of hope.

I have a fear of commitment;
A fear I can't lose,
For holding onto stardust
Is something I can't do.

I have a fear of attachment;
A fear strong and true,
For clinging onto ashes
Is something I would do.

I have a fear of contentment;
One that sticks like glue,
For getting far too happy
Would **** me through and through.

I had a fear of commitment;
That is, until
I met you.

"Keep smiling and dreaming" you wrote,
The ink on the page glistening like a
star in the sky as you slowly became
my universe.

That was so long ago,
back when you were the
cause of my sweetest smiles,
and yet,
I find my lips curving upwards still
when I trace your words with my fingertip,
The warmth between us rushing back with the
high of nostalgia, but the
low of longing slyly creeps in slowly after.

"Keep smiling and dreaming" you whispered,
But my smiles become a sigh
And my dreams seem like a lie.

Love is like a shadow,
Creeping silently into your heart
while your eyes are turned to
the sun,
Hoping to find hidden solace.

But this slippery shadow is the
darkness your soul needs
to grow.

My thorns grow
meaner by the day, to
protect my
withering heart from the
rose I cannot claim.

having your lover
trace your earloves with their
fingernib is as intimate as
reading.

Everywhere we look,
There are sprinkles scattered across the sky
Marshmallow trees that tower over us
And grass made of fruit laces which
entangles us together, forever.

I pick a flower for you that smells like jelly beans,
Reminding us of our youth, our colour.
Strawberry-scented birds swoop around us,
Laughing and singing in angel delight while
blueberry bees buzz in return.

I turn to look into your chocolate brown eyes which
melt into bliss,
But beware of such sweetness as it can become
so sour.

I spin myself a web of lies;
Lies that are disguised as the sweetest nectar
Yet contain a sickly poison within -
Killing yet comforting with every dose.

My tainted spell bewitches me,
To the point where both
mind and matter are
completely controlled by my
pleasurable pain,
And when my sense rejects this impulse my
insatiable heart clamours for more
and more,
pushing me to the brink of insanity -
Insanity that no one but my desire is to blame.

And what lies can influence the logical mind so?
Lies of unspoken passion which only my eye can see,
if my eye is to be believed.
Fantasies of requited need and longing,
Dreams of endless wonder at what could be
and what might be, maybe.

I don't want to believe my lies anymore
For they fool my silly heart,
Yet perhaps my lies are the only thing
Keeping my heart from breaking.

And so it ended.
The beginning of the chapter already
torn apart like it was a false start,
the paper confetti scattering in the wind.
Our lead bodies drag across an endless sheaf
searching for the right metaphor, yet we
splinter and stagger instead.
We scribble around each other, our words intertwined yet
apart, neither of us knowing when we would
rhyme again.
And so this narrative goes on, in the hope that
someday we will be on the same page with the
right ending.

Calmly under trusted branches I do sit
In this warm woodland of mine,
While flowers faint by my feet as their
breath is taken away by the peace around us.

Bees lazily drift pass me,
Dreaming of their life-giving nectar,
And I, too, imagine such bliss
Although mine takes on the shape of love -
Love I have never tasted,
But which brings light to my ever-blooming heart
all the same.

Suddenly vivid wind sweeps into my woodland
Blowing my hair and my thoughts away -
Away from those hazy dreams of mine
That only come alive in my mind.

They tease and they tantalise
Those wild-haired men,
For a raging sea of shapes that
clamour and grasp for their attention,
Despite blending into the colours of others.

Their velvet voices softer than their
growling, grovelling masks onstage,
Their words full of electric promise that
dazzle a new generation in new times,
Transcending the blur of decades to provide
hope for lost souls.

Untainted by the cracked lines of age
Simply because they never wore them in the first place.
And yet they fill their caged time with
fireworks that burn into the heart of the
living, and spark the memory of the
dying.

Ah, how I adore those wild-haired men,
For they carry me to a brighter time
Which I can only experience in my mind.

Time is currency,
Coins that I want to save up
Just to spend on you.

Curled up like a young pup
I snuggle into the safety of my bed,
the delicate scent of dreams
floating through my mind, and bringing
me to the comfort of
you.

Wrapped in your arms
I feel as if nothing can hurt me,
The protector of my heart
shielding me from pain,
Until at last you pull out your sword and
make my love for you bleed,
As you're not really there.

The breeze from my window
caresses my cheek while I lie
paralysed, and I reach out,
rabid for your touch but instead I
clutch at the cold wisps of wind that
tease me, as
You're not really there.