Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Naps

I read our lives to you,

as I rest,

surrounded by the rest of our days,

daring to dive into my dreams,

deep and delightful.

I am live on air,

living for you,

love in it’s purest, prettiest form,

painting masterpieces,

with messy,

well meaning hands.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Need

Missed, muted moments,

crossfires,

connections.

I collect the shards of my heart,

arranging them in your image,

cracking the code of codependency.

I need you,

and you need me,

but we are shattered,

seeing each other,

for a moment,

that is gone in an instant,

hopeful glances,

as we pass in the night.

This passion is painful.

Consumed by conspiracies I invent,

to keep me occupied,

lying to myself,

that there will ever be a day,

I don’t love you enough,

to endure the daily death,

that is our distance.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

How Soon Is Now?

I am on display,

throwing heartbreak on the airwaves,

waiting outside of your house,

humming How Soon Is Now?

Knowing I will never get an answer,

from the fiend,

who found me,

quite happily alone,

addicted me to his strange love,

then sent me away,

a stranger.

I don’t recall,

if I remained a human,

after the torture,

but love is my whole life,

survival of the seasick,

homesick,

lovesick,

lonely but still leaning against your door,

flowers in my hair,

and on my wrists,

each petal,

poisoned,

by the pain of endless waiting.

Waiting,

just in case,

now knocks on the door,

and takes me out to dinner.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Ruby Necklace

You kiss each of my fingertips,

I am breathless and beaten.

I play Princess,

melancholy Margaret,

missing a man she can never have,

because torturous love,

is the sweetest kind.

I miss you,

even in brief moments,

when you’re mine,

the devil dangles a darling divorcee,

in front of my tear stained face.

I still want you.

clutching you close,

letting you burn my palms,

virtuous vows,

that corrupt me.

God gasps,

as his best girl,

is broken out of prison,

free,

on the streets,

mastering the art of misconduct,

with her new master.

I was born to be the bride,

of a man who couldn’t be blessed.

I wear your shame,

around my neck,

red and gold,

racy rubies,

for your badly behaved boy toy.

You kiss each of my fingertips,

sweetness,

softening the burns,

my body aches,

for the pleasant pain,

only you can provide.