I am somewhere else not where I am lost in this daisy atmosphere going up, up, up
I was in a good place the other day but now I’m drifting away- too far, too much
As if there were no gravity to hold my soul in place and it hurts as it’s being torn out
The bpd is getting the best of me driving people I love away- even after he took me back
What kind of a fool am I that my mind torments me so as indelicacy grips my ribs and won’t let go
Will I survive another day to endure more of myself or at least what is left of this mad hat sanity
I am somewhere else not where I am and lost in this daisy atmosphere.
Photo Credit: http://wallpaperstone.blogspot.com/2013/04/hd-wallpaper-meadow.html
I’m breathless, from running in the meadow deep∼while trying to distinguish the weeds from the trees
I’m panting, mouth open and pleading for more ∼so restless, still moving my tongue back and forth
I’m wanting, from wandering around in the snow∼licking my lips and savoring the cold
I’m falling, from slipping on rocks in the brook∼rubbing my thy up and down where it hurts
I’m confusing sleep with being awake∼fading in and out of dreams as the blood starts to seep.
I watched you kill me a thousand times in life∼before you actually made me die
and now I write to you from the other side∼to say good-bye, beloved Night.
Haunted by your frightening memory and the stormy passion we displayed
I’m now lost amidst the abyss of darkness that surrounds me day after day.
The black sky rains silver streaks of lightning and waves of regret
I look down at vivid colors∼the brilliant display is heaven unabated.
So you finally did it, succeeded in your scheme, but now, my thoughts of you have faded
from somewhere in-between I write to you, my killer∼to say good-bye, beloved Night.
Under the surface of the water she lifts her weary eyelids up and peers
at the sunlit streaming rays pouring through the waves into her soul.
She looks down at her bruised and beaten body-though quite useless at this point
As it lays on the ocean floor beneath.
Shewing the biting fish away she wonders why her spirit hasn’t departed
one way or the other…
Why this hesitation? Why did they leave her behind in the sea?
There are questions to ponder-but somewhere in the wonder
of being caught, in-between, is a revelation of life itself.
She turns and floats deeper into the murky water…
Death came calling but she did not answer.
I gazed through the open window~Searching, longing, looking~But can’t find the trees today
I played with light yesterday~fading in and out of shadows~But can’t find the light today
I gauged his laughing sounds and mouth~Saving the memory of his face~I can’t find the laughter now
You there, reading my private thoughts~Invasive and intrusive~Demanding a conclusion to this verse~
I’ll write the end you need
Then find a way to help me see.
Free! Yet lives the land
An oyster blossoms, a pearl
Glistening cries the sand.
photo courtesy of www.sparklingdirect.co.uk
Each morning I wake up and I think, how can I outdo myself and my incredible talent for poetry? (haha) How can I please the reader, take them on a journey, but more importantly, how can I impress my narcissistic self?
It is 11am after all…so, I pour a glass of White Merlot in my fave wine glass and sit down at my laptop to dwell. I pulled the coffee table over toward me more because a girl shouldn’t have to over-reach when stretching to pick up her wine glass.
But then, as I reach for it I notice a pain in my upper left rib. This isn’t highly unusual because it’s an old fracture. However, it freaking hurts today. Then I think back to last night and the proverbial light bulb in my brain goes on. The sex was feverishly hot and a bit rough. The poetry muse begins to tango with her long legs and high heels commanding me to get to work.