Finding Peace
A breeze blows a kiss And it tastes of you What of your thoughts? Are they blowing, too? If I breathe in the sounds Of air through the trees Would there be a trace Of you in the leaves? I lost my voice To the sea, long ago But I hear your laugh When the … Continue reading Blow
I lie in bed and wonder who I am. “Volatile” rings through my ears, abrasive, rash, unacceptably familiar, it describes me perfectly. Did he know, when he said this, that I described my mother in the same way? Flashbacks of fights I didn’t start, wars I couldn’t win, breathes I couldn’t take. Did he know … Continue reading Volatile
I Watched you grow Into Someone I’d always wanted to be Did I make that happen? Or were you your own person Right From the Start? It keeps me up at night Did I make you, Did you make you? Could I have been you, Despite … Continue reading My Little One
Type, type, typing, Furthering another’s dream With no ideas for my own. When will someone be Type, type, typing For me?
The pricks are nothing to me They sting, sure, every now and then But it is their smell that makes me come for more I love it, and need it as much as the air I breathe The pricks are nothing to me They draw blood, I know But it's their softness that I remember … Continue reading Pricks
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