Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Rebecca Sep 2021
Dream in the big world.
Always trying to catch up.
Falling behind with only thoughts.
Never independent.
Not part of this.
Flights into the abandoned areas of the mind.
Not belonging but never knowing it.
Choosing a path because it exists.
Could happen to anyone.
Yet it happens to her.
Rebecca Sep 2021
Longing without intimacy.
Most giving with selfish purpose.
Mechanical, practiced sharing.
Unknown thoughts hidden
in pleasant phrases that please the ear.
The surface look of caring.
To never touch the soul who knows only self.
Who explains love as an open feeling.
Why love one when consumed with many.
The bee in the garden.
Not too close to see the stains of  conceit.
Rebecca Sep 2021
Giant steps into the dark
Taking chance to meet the fate
Looking forward with face upturned
Meeting trouble with a grin
Cool breeze whipping at my hair
Never looking for what was missed.
Only seeking what will come.
Rebecca Sep 2021
What is lost
The time together until I see you;
My favorite song until it is sung;
The most delicious dish until
it rests upon my tongue,
at which time, I close my eyes
and taste it with emphasis as never before.
My beloved who left too soon, but
when I leave all nonsense here -- that too
will be as strong as ever before.
No longer planned, just lived.
No longer known, just loved.
Rebecca Sep 2021
Night sky with deep dark blues;
Clouds traveling across the moon;
Cool breeze shaking the changing leaves;
The moon's fullness still showing the path;
The water gently lapping in the sound;
The sand's cool grasp as we walk to the edge;
Salty funk rising in the air;
Not wanting change, but knowing one is near;
Time is leaving.
Rebecca Aug 2021
Black wood cook stove
Lit with kindling;
In the corner of the house;
Warm dry heat;
Smutting up throughout;
Smell of char and cedar;
Just obstacle to the toddler
Reaching for wants.
Seared flesh.
Confusing pain.
Just her arm, not her face.
No scars remain.
The stove long gone.
Cold lonesome house
still smells of smoke.
Rebecca Aug 2021
From the beginning,
The ending was my greatest fear;
Knowing that it had to come, but
not when and how;
Years later, no one's fault-
No loss of interest;
Mere limitation of man.
Time awarded bliss;
Later, the worst fear.
It came drowning me
in the numbness of alone.
Next page