Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Is it really this easy?

Gaslit by the spirits,
watching them twist and turn under the lamplight as I dream my silly dreams,
pleading my silly case,
watching their lips curve into crooked smiles as thunder crashes, collapsing against the clouds.

Is it really this easy?
Is it really this easy to get the things you want in life?
I should ask,
but I don’t.
I know that we’re playing a game.
I am the mistress of make believe,
and these are the things I want to believe:
Number one, it is this easy, if I allow it to be.
Number two, closing my eyes is enough to close the gap between myself and the world I wish to awake in.

My eyes are closed.
Give me something to believe in.

When I was a small speck of a thing,
I loved an audience but had no talent,
so I broke myself into pieces and paced the trails of the stars that once resided in my grandfather’s record collection,
placing each part of myself back in a specific order until I was something special,
I think of the child often,
and I know that they do too.

it seems that this life is too bad to be true,
so I saunter off to my silk sheets and I let the spirits speak.
I lay in still silence,
letting them lull me to a land of lilac,
like a lamb, I walk slowly, with a smile to the axe.
It’s all going to be alright,
isn’t it?
My hands are clasped together,
with the beads of my God braided between my fingers,
and this has to be the moment where it happens.

I just need to hold out for it.
They told me that as the chimes rang out and the child slept,
and I stared into the darkness of their eyes,
wondering how long it would take them to consume her.
It isn’t their fault.
It’s all they know how to do.

Is it really this easy?
Is it really this easy to get the things you want in life?

I saw my darling with the long, blonde hair.
I dreamt of her last night.
I heard once that you’re rich if you’ve got one dream,
so I kept the thought of her close to my chest,
like my last penny,
waiting for her to be more than a series of moonlit visions.

Is it really this easy?
Is it really this easy to get the things you want in life?

I believe that it is,
and so do they.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

White Owls

White owls wail like they’ve heard this tale before,
like they know how it ends,
an endless screech as the sun sets,
but life is full of surprises,
so maybe those wailing warblers will sing a sweet song after all.

I am constricted under the cool glow of my magnificent moon,
she smiles down, as if I am her most treasured daughter,
and with every moment, I am unraveled,
finding freedom as the seconds slip by,
and she whispers warm wishes in my pierced, imperfect ear.

My madness has become a map.
I slink along the streets like a snake,
teddy bear in hand,
wild words between my luscious lips.
The night’s sky is shining and there is a bright light in my eyeline,
for once, I know exactly where I’m going.

Rainbows rise beneath my shoes,
and I don’t sing the blues anymore, my baby blue,
because you are clear within my sights,
and the white owls are jamming to some sweet jazz.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

I Asked For A Sign and I Got It

Foxes yell the future into the silence of a starless night,

and I listen,

with trembling lips, so suggestible to your own.

The honey flows from the sky,

like acid rain,

destroying the old earth,

so something new can flower and bloom where my past used to pasture.

I can feel your fingertips on my right wrist,

like you are urging me to write a story,

where two princesses journey across ancient lands,

landing in each other’s laps.

I am writing, mi amor,

I am writing.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Last Night’s Spell

Planting poppies under the waxing moon,

I read my wish list to the stars,

hoping God stayed up late to hear from his favourite girl.

I’m just a dreamer,

longing for long, late night phone calls,

where I feel the Earth stop,

then watch the sun rise,

in a blink of my hastily made up eyes.

I’m just an angel on the ground,

regaining her power,

but unsure if that will be enough,

to find and fix the shards of her sunshine soul.

I want to sleep in the dirt,

while my garden grows around me,

watching each wish, ticked off the list,

as the moon expands and disappears,

and then expands and disappears.