I believe that we could do it
If we really wanted to
I could really fall in love with you,
If I let myself.

And I bus home
On a rainy day
through the blurry embers of autumn
smeared on the Greyhound window
Remembering how she and I
Walked back after that movie
Our breath crystallizing in the wind
But barely breathing
Full of reverence
and sweet sisterhood
the cinnamon bun midnight
and soft whispers
of the life we used to have together.
Bury your sins beneath the heather
and hibernate in hypotensive hallucination
a final hallelujah
of appreciation
for the gifts that were ******
so prematurely in our arms
Straight from the oven
they burned our unprepared infantile hands
as we stood, indifferent to distant lands
and consumed by our own reality.
Well, we're grateful now.
Grateful in a way that destroys us a little
We both know we both know too much
to ever be completely okay
And who would ever want it any other way?
We smile through hard earned tears
and kiss the make-up off our years
And breathe the air of the country that gave us life
And we don't shy away from the things that make us hurt
And we thank the things that help us heal
And we know that home is never farther than a bus can carry us.

So I think we could do it,
If we really wanted to
I could really fall in love with you,
If I let myself

(Lord knows I need an adventure)

Four old friends
Dead of winter small town
Germany.
Smoke rising from chimneys
From cigarettes, and pipes
From trains riding the rural rails
From city spires
And factories
From airplanes
Airplanes
and Airplanes,
From Airplanes.
Smoke dancing and laughing
Stinging and coughing
Smoke in my hair and jacket
In the pores of my skin
Smoke in my eyes,
Up the hill
And through the woods
Dead of winter
Small town Germany
Four old friends
Walk two by two
Three by one
Four and four.
Walk by the church,
Down the creek,
Up the hills, the hills
And through the woods
Small town
Germany four old friends
Dead of winter
Cigar smoke and beer
Cigarillos in a chain
Smoke from crystalizing breath
And fireworks
Smoke from bonfires
And tailpipes
Smoke from airplanes
Airplanes and airplanes
Smoke from airplanes.
Smoke stains and cigarette burns
Little circles in my jacket
Germany
Four old friends dead of winter
Small town
Smoke tears
Smoke promises
Smoke memories that linger
Like the faint nausea
Of what-the-hell-has-happened.
I watch the **** end of your last cigarette
Crumpled and fading
In the ashtray of that Badischer bar
And your eyebrow twitched
The heart-wrenching shiver
Of what-the-hell-has-happened.
And I whispered:
(airplanes)
airplanes and airplanes
I whispered airplanes.
That’s what the hell.

Watching swings in the wind
swaying, ghostly
sadly empty
chains creak with no laughter to drown the sound
it carries like screams
of all the children
who pleaded
to never
ever
grow
up.

a collaboration with Calpurnia Mockingbird*

Write for you
let words pour fourth
for the good of a smile,
to release the pressure,
to dry the tears.

Write for you
because you feel it.
Not for the lightening,
the exclamations at clever rhyming
nor the coloured heart that marks your triumph.

Write for you
for love, for joy, for fun
let your souls soar with the majesty of eagles
upon the freedom of a blank page.

Write for you.
your desires and dreams.
Your wishes and doubts
may echo in the lives of others
but that is not their worth.

Write for you
because it is how you breathe,
how you let go,
be soothed by the flow of ink
for it is your only stillness in an ever spinning world.

Write for you.
Only you.
Always.

Dark branches dance against an aluminium sky
as dusk taints the edges with blue.
The last crow warns of death as it passes,
it's cry echoing along the shoeless streets
and down to the brook where once laughter played.
Storm clouds gather in furious array
shaking thunderous fists at the earth below,
their forked tongues tearing the atmosphere
as the first droplets spew forth from their ragged mouths.

Oh to be there when you wake, your skin sweet and warm with the echoes of slumber. To watch as your smile dawns, more beautiful than any sunrise that has ever brought my world to life. 

To place my head upon your shoulder, my fingers coiled around yours, as our limbs tangle in hope of purchase against our parting and kisses bloom sweeter than any gift man's heaven could bestow.

Oh to lay there in stillness, silent against the insistent morning as love draws breath and home is found within whispers of tomorrow.

~~《♡》~~

may your penship be worthy
may your heart be bold
may the parchment that beckons
be edged with pure gold.

may your sails be caught
by a breeze off the sea
may the coasts where you sail
be nations free.

may your mast be lofty
a pen full of might
may your skies be scarlet
only at night

may your stars be bright
as you sail where you will
may ink flow like a river
from an angel's quill.

may dimensions make music
may your muse scream
may you dream your life

may you live your dream.

~~《♡》~~

soulsurvivor
2/3/2015

RIPPED

TORN

The blade sliding across my fragile skin.

A rush of adrenaline pushes its way through my body.

Blood drips from my arm.

Finally,

Relief.