I

Live in your

Shadow

A

Break

In the light

A

Darkness 

That

Only spreads

with

Time; 

Blind is the

world

Who

Coddles you

Dear,

Impatient and

unfeeling

In 

Realising our deepest fears. 

Her breathe is my life

Sweet cherry mist the fiber of my being,

I question if my cream puff body would survive

The rainstorms she so adores.

I long for her touch, crisp and cool as it is,

But sigh bitter laments

Knowing she'll always be out of reach. 

The strings glisten,

The curtains rise,

The stage fills smooth with colour,

As if to showcase her prize; 

Wings bustle

Dark with motion and hidden noise,

Captivating movements slip and blur

In a brilliant display of poise; 

Sky-bound lights flaunt and flicker

Contrast welded into a form, set to bicker.

Up, flies the music!

Down, pour the lights!

Memories forged of voices and clap-ter

And suspended star-studded nights.

half empty

sometimes i feel like my life is

fractured,

pieces scattered on the doorsteps of houses I used to live in, hung around the necks of people I used to know.

and that leaves me hollow,

half full. 

maybe that's why i am lost

maybe that's where the emptiness inside me comes from;

i have left shards of myself everywhere i've gone,

and since i have gone so very many places,

i am patchwork, threadbare, full of

empty places. 

many things can be half empty - glasses, moons,

myself.

sometimes i think that is why i write;

to fill the hollowness inside myself.

but poems are thin, fragile things, and they always

fold and tear inside me,

so i write another

and another

and another,

briefly filling the gap inside me.

but, inevitably, my paper castle collapses,

and i'm

half empty again.  

I can only imagine

How it feels to unshatter;

Pieces unfalling, floating up

Slamming together in union --

Dust sucked in by an unseen force,

Sound swallowed all too soon

By the reverse flow of time.

There is no tear, no zip of rewinding the tape,

No incessant chimes, nor ticks of small gears and cogs,

Buried deep within the cold metal hearts of clocks.

Indeed, beyond the un-explosion (implosion, perhaps?)

There is nothing but stillness and silence --

Menace, yet mirror to all solice --

A sandwich in between which all teeters, then falls backwards,

Collapsing into itself, but wrongly. 

Golden winds stir the fields

Beneath skies bleeding indigo,

A shawl torn to reveal the deep

Nature of the void beyond

The protective shell crisped

Around our small marble of a world.

Indeed, the wheatened scent seeps,

Permeating the shadow-veil itself,

Eating away and wakeful conciousness.

Soon sleep shall fall

And so too shall the inky sea above. 

Creaking halls and darkness past locked doors,

Bland beige wallpaper plastered over all-seeing orbs,

They see and have seen all, while I hear nothing

Scraped from the sad tongue who so sweetly once sung.

Chimes of a shattered music box, somewhere upstairs;

Pinwheel whirling beyond cold glass panes, no kindness to spare,

Banisters crumble, pages on shelves can only whisper and mumble 

Patterned carpets donned in soul-swallowing rooms drown out grumbles;

Hiding secrets in their bellies, though the eyes in the walls still see them,

At least they do what they can to shield us from him. 

Even outside the house itself, I find suffocation ever-so-close,

Indeed, instead of walls and roof and floors, a tall caging fence keeps me here.

Scuffles bounce in tiny tight tubes, held-in breath locked in empty vents,

In this place where tears can't fall, chilling silence in the stead of screams are rent.

~~~~~

I think it's a tad stilted, but still conveys the intended aesthetic. What do y'all think? Just confusing?

We take such pride

In holding memories captive,

In locking up beauty

Behind bars for our own convenience

And twisted pleasure. 

We pretend to know not

Why the cage bird sings;

Masquerade as people driven not solely by greed;

Lie to ourselves, promising we're all the better for it,

As if imprisoning the innocent is doing anyone any favours.

Perhaps, let us entertain the idea

That someday soon, it is time to let these precious joys go;

To free them and allow them to reincarnate again;

Only then may balance be returned to the world. 

My heart pumps for these moments 

Of flux;

I live for the elegant stagger of legs,

The tight

Trills and neat kicks, smooth steps of Tango.

My breathe

Quickens, each one seeming like eternity

One step

Closer to heaven and all her pleasures.

Indeed, warmth

Floods me, a mere brush away from touching --

Kissing, in fact --

But I try my best not to think about that. 

Instead my heart

Trots to the rhythm and flow of the music-tides

And my mind

Softly calls out time to distract me from you;

Your scented shampoo,

Your soft smile of a grin, your hand on my shoulder,

Then the one clasped in mine 

The way your figure melts into mine as I lead,

Carrying us

To our destiny; One where we steps about the clouds

And drink starlight

Instead of each others laughter (though that's a nice snack)

And for eternity, evermore

Perform our centre-piece dance, the pride and joy

In which we grasp

The entirety of, full potential blooming, only in our deepest 

Most mesmerising Dreams.