my mind curls inwards toward you
as my hands hang like weights at my side
trying to raise to your cheek
and failing tirelessly as the chains tighten
their grasp upon my wrist.
my eyes search yours with lust and desire
as my insides curdle and sabotage
my lips chance to dance with yours.
my mind curls inwards toward you
left by frantic fingertips
all over my back.
i want to write away from you,
lines to leave you far behind.
and yet i search the keys for you,
for words to aid my call.
all i find are tainted letters
painted across a lustful mind.
Greet with love,
rooted deep within your core
and harvested straight from the
heart within your own chest that
you have so diligently nurtured.
Be kind to your heart,
for it is riddled with rips and tears
whether you are aware of them
or not; repair your soul before
pledging to repair another.
Go with love.
to change the air in which i breath,
i fall and rise carefree of life.
the birds they sing, they do not screech -
with beauty, the only sound i hear.
one needent entertain the negative,
but only rearrange one’s thoughts
and consume the wonders of life;
everything has good, if only we search.
breathing in the winter’s air,
the crisp wind kisses life
back into untouched cheeks.
the cold flows down unsuspecting
throats, frosting over old and weary
feelings; the cold, suddenly not so
cold, creates a refreshing sensation -
a reminder of nature’s abundantly gracious second chances.
i have loved books, and films,
and flowers, photographs, destinations,
and feelings, pets, dreams, and friends -
yet i am still to love anything
close to the way in which i love you.
Some things are perfect,
like scripted screenplays
and the timing with which
the hero rides in on a
timely tamed white stallion,
but I have found beauty
more in imperfections, the
unpredictable sunsets spilling
over mountain tops just before
you reach the summit, too
early for your plans but
much too mesmerizing
to flip the channel.
didn’t the summer wind
tell you that i was waiting
with the daisies, in their
field so overflowing with
love, and lust, and all
things essential to blossoming?
…i guess the bitter winter’s
rain held you captive,
breathing her chilling
melancholy into your bones.
fixed photographs hang upon the wall,
long since have i wished they held you captive.
faint shadows land upon the dimming frame,
fading sun illuminating the memory of your face.
slowly a smile dances across my mouth:
finally i breathe, as i find i can enjoy you,
without missing you.
leave loose fitting
to fall away.
We’re all masochists,
drawn in by those who
resolve to push us out.
I’m only nostalgic for
the ones who’ve left me
scarred, perfect sliced
reminders of their once
so prominent presence
on my open, bleeding heart.
with my hair dyed copper,
like the reeds during summer,
my uncle called me blood-nut
as my laugh followed me to
the waters edge, where i danced
on the shore as the blistering
sand kissed the murky waves
who came to lap up against our feet.
voices moulded together the memories
in which i hold dearest to my heart;
a time when the only care i had
was whether the boys in the cabin next
door would notice me or my cousin first -
yet in the end it would matter not
as my cousin and i frolicked in happiness
that felt would last a lifetime.
beneath moonlight that illuminated
the beauty of the lake, whispered
secrets flowed from ear to ear
and i knew that in the end,
family was all that counts.
in the dimly lit room
beneath the cover of night,
i held you closer than i held my wits.
i let you crawl beneath my skin,
memorising your lips like i
should have been memorising my ideals -
ideals that would have saved me
from loosing you; much like i lost myself.
with forest eyes
and a quite river
tongue, it tortures
me so, every time
i must leave the
quiet serenity, painted
inside my mind.