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  Jan 2019 Diane K
Jamison Bell
She’ll curl up in the arms of the moon and wistfully think of her heart’s desire. Hoping to jumpstart a dream she hopes to one day live.
The smoke swirls about like mixed paint in the crepuscular rays of a new day. Time spins around me like my life is a game of musical chairs. Except I can’t hear the music.
My thoughts claw their way back to you. My whiskey drowned eyes swim in shadows of your face. As you smile that “love in spite of” smile. Letting me know I’d found something unconditional.
Her honeyed tongue runs over my heart and it forgets its own scars. Helpless to her touch my spirit floats off and I forget myself.
Find me in the corner of a memory once cherished before my words lost me. Revisit that place and time with me and hold me tight. I’m in pieces. If you let go.
Diane K Jan 2019
Such a lovely anticipation
hoping that my projection
will surpass my expectation
once my eyes rest upon your face.

Laugh at my plausibility
it wont deter my believability
I stand by my elation
to drink in the intoxication
of  my lips meeting yours.

If this is delirium
this state of feeling blithesome
I've no choice but to succumb
and trust in the rhythm
when by body should press against yours.

So let us revel in what we might become....
and stay the hell away from my ******.
Diane K Dec 2018
Someone once told me "not to believe everything that I think"
I was cautioned never to leave unattended my drink.

Don't run with scissors or play with matches
All my spaces and cabinets have childproof latches.

Crossing the street I look not once but three or four
At night,  I slide the chain and triple lock my door.

I fear getting it wrong, getting hurt, being alone, getting old
I wish I was stronger, wiser, braver and bold.

Better to stay with the devil you know
then be out in the world all alone.

Life handed you lemons?  Make a drink.
Want something more?  It's a selfish thing to think.

So, I sit in my life watching it go by
and dream of what ifs.

Heavy sigh.
  Dec 2018 Diane K
TheStartOfMyEnds
Skinned alive
With her hands tied
She was left exposed
Pay attention to her eyes
You could see the ongoing war
Between her defiant mind
And her generous, foolish heart
You could hear the words left unsaid
Diane K Dec 2018
The heart's afire,
Voiceless it mutters.
The mind transcribes.
Consciousness
shudders.

Clouds are foreboding.
The eyes will leak.
The Soul in longing.
Unable to speak.

Words heard pointedly.
Memories are mocking.
The heart goes quiet.
It's tired of talking.

No ones listening.
At least not that one.
She arrives with the
moon.
And leaves with the
sun.
From the works of Jamison Brentwood Bell -I found much  too beautiful not to be shared.
  Dec 2018 Diane K
Jamison Bell
She paints her moments on her caramel skin
Those ones she knows won’t last
Sorting through things said
Reliving the storms, hoping they stir her again
Whether it be rage or loss
As long as she can feel it
So the stars look for her
And the moon has missed her soul
While she hides in her corner
Because she doesn’t trust the light
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