My heart is happy. Buzzing, Like ones does after 5 cups of coffee; Or so I'm told. I don't drink coffee, but that's beside the point. My heart is happy. And that's amazing, Because for a long time It wasn't.
Category: Poetic
You.
The clouds linger Low And the rain Mists, Which is very odd For early February In Australia. I've just finished My a nine-hour day, Collapsing into my Bed, Windows bathing me In an overcast glow. For some strange reason I think of you. I think of you, For the first time In three years. … Continue reading You.
He.
He came to me Again last night, Never in flesh Always in my Sleep. He pinned me Down, Helpless my heart Lept. Hands, Too many of them, Grabbed at my body. No matter How much I Struggled, He continued to Go about his Work.
Father, take me home
I stand at the door; Hand outstretched, Knuckles white and Arms trembling. I know I have to knock, But I'm afraid of what I will find on The other side. I was kind, right? Compassionate to all? I gave to the needy and lonesome! I tried hard to play by The rules? But I also lied … Continue reading Father, take me home
I love you.
I was stupid To think That you wouldn't Lie to me. I thought That I was the Exception, That I meant Something to you. That I had truly Captured your Heart, and Tamed your wild Soul. Maybe I was Naive to think That I was something Special Or maybe Deep down I Knew, that you'd … Continue reading I love you.
Lipstick
This was the lipstick I wore the moment I lost it all.
Things that went unsaid.
You never knew that I would have loved you well.
First and last.
Yannick Horik was the first boy to ever kiss her. He was German, they were five and preschooler romances were a serious thing. But her first “real” kiss didn’t come until high school – that kiss had involved tongue and a guy named Fredrick Basinger. He was a whole year older, and even though it … Continue reading First and last.
Silence.
I hear the crunch of bone and everything runs slow. Like, in the matrix; time and space no longer matters. I am paused; hand resting on the door knob, heart in my throat, lungs caught midway between breathes. Then I see everything clearly. In this silence, I am able to finally process the … Continue reading Silence.
Black Out.
Mum and I are sitting at our kitchen table. The sun is full, cascading into the room dousing us with its warmth. In hushed tones we are attempting to discuss my future. She speaks to me voice slowly rising with each concerned thought. ‘I believe it’s best if… But in reality Selina… … Continue reading Black Out.
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