Drown Deep.

With dreams I found a way into my own heart,
with wings I flew upon kindness of others whom willingly fell and depart.

We flew slow with tears so oceans were made,
but clouds were swift to pave their way,
as the crescent moon hung still above the seas’ bay.

It was a rush of frustration,
a time of reconciliation,
life of mourning,
whilst more tore in.

“So to my goddesses and gods, I plead to give me hope,
life is not so bitter sweet… is it not?”

The time has come for the awakening of the hidden,
the removal of dread,
a time of change from the very bottom of the sea bed.

So I ask, in my own rage, “remember me well,
for I am human with wings that you can not quell!”


The Beginnings (of Love).

It always happens to me.

The world stop spinning for a split second, long enough for him to take my breath away.
Our eyes meet. I hope he thought I was looking else where or perhaps believed it was a casual glance around the room.
He smiled sweetly.
I returned one of my own.

Time suddenly sped up to make up for being lost in this moment.
Reality rushed back into my awareness.
Panic in the vicinity of my consciousness.
My breath quickened.
Whilst somewhere inside of me, I sighed and fainted like the starstruck feelings of a pre-teenage girl in the presence of a celebrity.

I realised he was waiting…
oh right! My green tea.
He took my order and left as quickly as the air he had stole from my very lungs.

If he had noticed… then life cannot get more embarrassing.

Embrace The Right Hand.

Oh, eternal night,
You are the spaces between light,
The half I could not see,
My living controversy,
Always beneath painting,
You in essence, lamenting.

A gentle caress,
Made our empty spaces last,
It was neither your hand nor whisper,
That made my heart whimper,
Sometimes simply your shoulder near mine,
Maybe when our fingers intertwine,
Or your kiss after we wake,
Or gratitude for when I bake,
Then again, it is every time,
Darling… mine.

You ponder of me woefully,
It is love beyond our years, you see,
You are everything and more to me,
Even though you maybe imaginary.

I can only imagine you when I am small,
I can only touch you when I fall,
I can only hear you when I do not breath,
You can only be when I weep.

Always, you wish for me to seek light,
Remind me of those who will make me forget this plight,
Yet your dark embrace is what I remember,
As in my heart it remains yours – cold, wintery and always December.