Confetti

It takes a breath;
a silent
gesture

That glance
over her
shoulder;
her sheepish grin:
Chagrin.

Happiness and
celebration:
like laughter –
light and airy –

Are breezy and free,
colorful,
the uplift
that carries
souls off –

All caught in
Brilliant
Balloons

Holding one –
lighter than air –
Her shaking fingers
reach up…

…and let go.

This time
it’s not hers.

Not today.

Dust

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An essence.
Peace.

Where is her heart?
Lying in wait?
Lying in stone?

That pulsing rhythm,
Sinking,
Sinking.

Too tired to fight the fury.
Wary;
Unbending in
Apathy.

Pressing, pressing.
A pain so course.

Grit in her veins,
Bleeding,
Bleeding.

The wounds,
The sores
Too raw to hide.

Grotesque;
There is no beauty
to her beholders.

Fire, fire.
Burning stone.
No passion:
Just cold and bone.

Rigid, raw,
Unkempt,
Disgraceful.

An ugly
Whore.
Naked, torn.

Withered, beaten.
Arched in pain.

There is no peace.
The is no fame.

She’s lost.
She’s maimed.

Her heart remains.

Hope

Wrap me up
from all of this.

It hurts too much to breathe.

Fix the trembling in my lips.
Seize the moment,
steal that kiss.

I won’t run away.

Furnish all my insides
With simple words of praise.

Build me up,
Bring me hope,
Promise me you’ll stay.

Tell me that you love me.
And look into my eyes.

Claim your territory,
Help me recognize
That I am more than something,
Something insignificant and small.

Tell me I am beautiful,
Catch me when I fall.

Breathe into me honesty.
Fortify my strength.
Pick me up and
Let me know that I am someone great.

Handle me with kindness.
Gently love me day and night.
Open up your soul to me,

Trust me with that rite.

We can be one beating heart,
One quiet, steady breath.

Find the perfect moment.

I can wait.
We will last.

Just know that I am hurting…
My heart’s suffered in the past.

Fettered

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This heart is compressed
And aches in odd places;
The fear left behind
Caved in empty spaces. 
 
I can’t take it back
I can’t let it go;
My mind wanders off,
My thoughts running slow. 
 
Beyond all the rage
Lies weary, in wait,
A self-preservation
Combined with self-hate. 
 
Suffocated, frenzied 
Numbed and abhorred;
Secrets kept silent, 
Smothered and ignored. 
 
I shouldn’t consider
These plagues from the past,
But they haunt from within, enslaved, so they last. 
 
How much can it take,
This heart, turned to stone;
This vision of muscle,
Now petrified bone?
 
It’s corruption, a mark 
Of a lie all-too sung:
Love is a game
Of flesh, bone, and fun. 

Intricate

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I desire fame in a hat.
Like catching raindrops
On a summer day.

Or a string of pearls
found in a pot of clay.
Ceramic matches my pallor.

Never has a butterfly
Spun silk or blown glass,
But I haven’t, either.

Where is the treasure
That captivates like
Gold, or the sea?

Maybe it’s easier to
Find than gold, and more
Constant that the sea.

When my heart stops,
I hope it bursts, because
Of all the Love inside it.

One day, I’ll gain
More love than all
The sand in the world.

I’ll have so much,
I’ll have to share it
With everyone I see.

And then,
Only then,
Will I have peace.

if

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if i were a painter,
i’d cover the earth.

if i were a bird,
i would sing.

if i were a storm,
i’d be vibrant.

If i were a beach,
my sand would be white.

if i were a whisper,
i’d be a secret.

if i were a book,
i’d have thin pages.

if i were an angel,
my hands would be small.

if i were a reaction,
i would be laughter.

if i were a prayer,
i’d never stop.

if i were intimate,
i’d be a touch

if i were lost,
i’d search for you.

if i were rejected,
i’d walk forward.

if i were a thought,
i’d be subconscious.

if i were innocent,
i’d be a child.

if i were yours,
you’d be mine.