A Whole Day Of Hope Sometimes it's harder to write positively when you're in a bad place. So I've decided to give it a go. Her hand blossoms, she reaches toward A falling star, an interlude, Another treasure to revere, to hoard; Another toy to satisfy her mood. She smiles as she turns, She screams at the sky, 'More stars' she yearns, As they tease her up high. Like a venus fly trap her figure Holds close, the falling stars That she can't claim as hers, So she places the spotlights back into the dark. 'Earth!' She demands as he perks his ears, And the morning sky tinkles down its tears, 'Wake up!' She pleads; he groans and he moans But then looks around and notices morn. His gears start turning; he wakes day's birds, As he watches the nocturnals settle down to rest, And he shakes his roots, misplaces the dirt, Then reclaims his limbs, stretches them to test. And the sun! Oh the sun it radiates such light, And the girl! Oh she forgets any such plights, Her chestnut skin bathes in its glow, As she breathes in a whole day of hope.
Dismember I can't help wondering, If this is the externalising Of a soul that has me plundering. Strained breaths keep rising My body swims towards the surface reluctantly, Its thoughts the weight of the ocean's blue, The darkness battles, collides with #life's residues, As my fingers straggle for the airs of hope, My eyes search for something solid; A shapeless shadow holds out a rope, My soul releases me following a steady stream of cries, And the retreating ocean colludes to dry.
A Vignette Start A bitter cold soars through their veins, And suddenly not a drop of warmth has want to remain, Slender, his frame arches, his spine snaps and they sigh, His teeth grind as his nails sink into his own thighs, Their fingers struggle, yearn, as they're clawed apart, A laugh. Every tragedy has a vignette start.
Unravelled His grip was getting stronger, Her nights were getting longer, They wouldn't say a word when they saw each other, They couldn't say a word lest they should remember, Each smile, each frown, each cry remained unsurfaced, Each night, each morn, neither found desire's purpose. Yet still his arm clung, clings onto her, desperate Her body was, is left breathing but breathless, As the stars cover their infant eyes, And the#moonswallows the wanting skies, Their own candles willingly lose light, And their oneness becomes defined by the night.