Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

I Made Coffee

I sat for five minutes with my hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. The warmth reminded me of you, and I thought about the first one you would drink in the morning, slowly finding yourself back in the world, awake, as dawn breaks, warmth in your hands as you drink and watch the foxes play on the soft grass outside your window.I didn’t drink. I just let the warmth wash over me, until the china was cool again, watching the swaying of the trees outside my window, wishing for something more exciting, something like foxes (you know how I love foxes), or your towering frame appearing in the morning mist, the answer to my prayers, the soft song, composed from the beating of my heart.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Last Night, I Dreamed That Lockdown Was Over

Yes, I am just trying to make it through the days.

The days are long and empty,

endless, echoing tunnels,

with no light to guide me home.

An inhuman concoction that calls itself the human condition,

there is no home to go to,

because I am alone,

watching my soul sleep outside of my body,

battling nightmares,

as the hours unfold,

in the same way as they have for so long.

Yes, I am just trying to make it through the days.

I watch the minutes mutate,

stretching, snug and smug in front of me,

and I wonder if I’ll ever reach out and feel the future, warm against my skin, ever again.

Last night,

I had a dream,

where I was crowded,

your touch,

your kiss,

your heart,

surrounding me,

and I awoke,

aching and aimless,

because I am just trying to make it through the days,

but the days are so long,

without you.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

I Woke Up Early, and I Missed You

There is darkness and stillness outside.

I didn’t kiss you Goodnight because I was overwhelmed with exhaustion,

falling quite suddenly,

into a deep and lonely sleep,

at about half nine,

and now it’s almost five AM,

and I am in my garden,

listening to the whispers of the wind,

early birdsong and the talking of the trees behind my house.

I want to hear your voice.

Just for a second,

I want to hear it,

I want it to surround me,

the way it does when I am next to you,

engulfed in emotion, passion,

passing from the real world to my dream world.

I go so many places when I’m in your arms,

but when I am alone,

I am stagnant,

stuck in solitude.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Good Things Are Coming Soon

Escaping out the window,

I rest on the roof,

chirping like a little bird,

soaking up the sweetness of the sun.

I write a love song with the harmonising wind,

keeping a fragment of your voice inside my inner monologue,

for those moments when my body feels like it can’t survive another day without being held.

I can survive,

but I won’t be happy about it.

I still find things to smile about,

the thought of the first smiles we’ll exchange,

soon,

a long kiss,

after interrupted months,

where I held you,

only in my dreams.

Soon.

Good things are coming soon.

I tell myself that every time the time of day dictates I should wake,

and the world starts running, without me.

I catch up,

eventually,

knowing that good things are coming soon,

but until then,

my only peace is when I write under the moon,

on the tiny bit of roof that I can escape to,

through the window of my bedroom.

I tell the moon that good things are coming,

and she tells me that she can’t wait.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

I Should Not Be Seeing You

Late love,

under the stars,

under covers,

under the influence of how soft your voice is when you’re with me,

how soft your hands behave when they’re with me.

Midnight rendezvous,

tied together,

tied up in this mad romance,

my veins are clean,

but I am intoxicated,

eyes closed as you pull me closer,

the kiss felt around the world,

because my world is right here,

between your sheets.