Whispers in the depth of night
Whites of our eyes shining bright
Lips in movement
Words offer our reality
Conversing in shallow tunes
Touch, leaning into the heat of you
Expressing thoughts; gift to thee
Without fear, fate leads the he and she of our bonding.
Merry Christmas Eve –
My presence hasn’t been here for quite some time and for that I’m truly sorry, yet I know y’all understand.
Please don’t ignore
Accessible and exposed
I am yours.
how can a poetess, such as I,
a writer of love,
her desire for it,
her continued search
of its perfection,
be asked to step away
from her attachment towards
its existence, so that she
might find her place in someone’s
they don’t know me at all.
when he becomes
more than just a dream,
my heart will beat
the sound of a thousand drums
my soul will ache
with the clinching of needy fists
my mind will race
towards a feminine understanding,
and butterflies will
make sense again.
When did my confidence go to battle with my insecurities?
Why are they winning?
I know better.
I am better.
I will continue to thrive.
Go. It’s been done before,
I would again.
Throwing a temper tantrum would never work.
Waiting patiently gets me nowhere.
Being my quiet self is far too dull.
All that is left is to use my voice, yet, the quiver I hear isn’t very convincing as I try.
Fearing judgment may keep me from the happiness I know I deserve.
Wanting to be a playground, but instead I’ve become too common.
Take what is yours, these words I hear constantly in my head, I used to believe they were meant for me to say to the one who truly wanted me.
Maybe it’s what I’m supposed to do.
Huh, it goes against who I believe I am, but being left alone is too.
Amidst the clutter
Of my mind
I recognize who and what I love.
Clinging to primitive, and desire,
Into wooded respite
As I normally do.
A conscious decision every day, yet
Eventually every tree will fall.
How do I listen for one more?