Burnt fingers

I feel broken beyond repair,
My heart slowly charred over time,
As if burnt on hot coal.
Crippled by your own fear,
You sabotage love for an apparition,
In the hope that a mirage will fill your void.

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I promise we’ll talk

I string words together in pretty sentences
To help me heal
But this time words don’t come so easily
You took them from me
The bruise aches a little too much
Silencing me
The pain soars through me
Making me tongue tied
Numbing my fingers –
They just can’t write like they once did

Sometimes things fall apart

I lie here tangled in you,
Your fingers trace the spaces between mine,
Spring’s sun pierces through trying to catch a glimpse –
As our shadows dance on ruffled sheets.
The sound of the rain hammers against the glass,
Awaking me from my slumber,
The dullness of the grey lingers to remind me –
I lie here tangled in the memory of you

Winter Solstice

Wrap me with the veil you cast above the world,

I long to feel those stars prick my skin instead,

And the silver light with which you greet celestial bodies,

Let that scar me instead.

The shooting star that darts across the sky,

I long for it to burn inside me instead,

And the rain that falls when the night is black,

Let it gently trickle down my spine instead.

The wind that howls on a cold winters eve,

I long for it to embrace me instead,

And the stillness of night without the moon,

Let me become that instead.

Cinderella

The clock strikes midnight

You stand transfixed by its chimes

Defenceless in moments like this –

You’re engulfed by the silence that follows

Your fingers slip,

The spell is broken

Glass scattered around your feet –

A vague reminder of the girl with the missing glass slipper

Eventually we run out of tomorrow’s

Time stands still and bows its head,

Empty promises bounce off the stone walls,

I stand in the doorway –

Cold coffee in your favourite mug,

Lipstick marks stain the rim,

“There’s nothing to talk about anymore.”

Words are cushioned by a desperate plea –

I shrug it off,

I never did like cold coffee anyway.

Drunk on you

You watch her as she prays
Her slow methodical movements
The carefully sought out words
Muttered under her breath
She smells of milk and honey
Intoxicating you with the solitude she hungers for
You watch her undress
Her hair cascades down to embrace her shoulders
She tastes of milk and honey