that night
my teeth
came loose
in their sockets
that night
after the terror
my teeth
came loose in their sockets
that night
i sat
with a stranger
drinking tea
until dawn
in the brightly lit kitchen
of hell
we hid behind
cynical
ragged
raging
jokes
to lighten the load
‘my teeth
have come loose
in their sockets’
i told her
‘stress can do that’
she said
the next day
they had tightened again
and i was ready to bite
I don’t like the power
you hold over me,
the power I let you
hold over me,
clinging to rain stained memories
as insignificant in retrospect
as their simplicity—
holding my hand in the car.
I don’t like revisiting
that moment,
knowing now how little it meant to you
as it stained my life
with impossible desire
as childish as a birthday wish.
I don’t like the compulsion
to write about holes
that shouldn’t exist,
the ridiculousness of caring
for someone that viewed me as a blink.
I can’t stop thinking.
–Leanne Rebecca
When it comes to the heart, it’s amazing how quickly it can be hurt, that even the most meaningless action to one person can devastate another. The only perspective we ever really have is our own, especially when all of the sudden, perceived truths turn out to be wrong. This is my fancy way of…
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in my mind,
and in my heart,
in my soul
completing,
i know she blooms forever
sweet rose,
so entwining,
unbounded,
unrestricted,
all life’s joys defining
envious lol
there you lay
in your cradled bed
unable to move
hair thin,
skin frail,
bones sagging,
your eyes open
but, so far away
perhaps you are where i
remember you best,
smiling,
on your knees on the carpeted floor,
round, radiant summer skirt,
spread about like a pool
Under southern summer stars
she dreams at night
of northern winds
sighing in the sycamore,
whispering of kisses.
The rain on rooftops
hisses.
A shadow falls across her bed
and fills her head with tender words,
unheard again,
unspoken yet,
until the morning comes.
rumbustious rivalry,
clowning for all they are worth,
jangling hormones,
uncertainty,
nerves and bravado,
the boys at the front of the bus,
huddled and pushing,
their shoulders colliding,
create a passengers nightmare
the girls look on,
full of disdainful glances,
dreaming of their brothers best friend,
the sixth former at the back,
quiet and serious
and oh, so desired
i feel a deep urge to tell them,
wait longer than that
before they awaken your heart
boys are slow in their growing
and some never know
they have that journey to make
but i only sit, making a note
in my constant notebook of life,
my smile benign
The river always pulled this way,
quiet in its flowing.
I followed close
but had no way of knowing.
I only had a longing,
undefined, unsatisfied,
a well too deep to fathom.
I bowed my head in sorrow.
But life is strange.
The river curved and flowed away.
I could only follow.
It lead me to a pasture.
The waters pooled.
The stars, reflected,
shifted,
a secret, silent mirror.
When night was at its darkest,
I made a lonely sojourn here,
So tired from this journey.
I lit a fire.
It flamed
It burned.
I built it to a beacon.
You saw it where you wandered.
Home was never truly home
until you came to share it.
The light was never quite so bright
nor the fire so strong
until you sat beside me.
And now each night
I sit with you
and count my lucky stars
When we first met she was a bud,
growing on the wayside,
but that was long ago
in days so near forgotten.
I didn’t see her gleaming.
My mind was far away
and she grew out of season.
In trembling ice and snow
her heart was hidden.
I was dreaming.
Now she is a full blown rose
and she exudes a scent so strong
so passionate, so haunting,
no man could e’er resist her.
I’d brave every storm that blows
but, growing in this peaceful place,
this flower could bloom forever.
And yet I had to pluck her.
I took her, my eternal rose,
to make my own, possess her.
I will never crush her.
I look at her and I’m inflamed
My soul, in swoon, soars high above.
She is the heart of my desire.
She will always be to me
a rose that glows in glory.
She is my own sweet sighing love,
the bloom that I will treasure.
Her essence lingers on the breeze,
beside the lake, beneath the trees,
on every path i walk alone
she is my darling, and my own.
She haunts my dreams.
She is my home.
She cherishes the best of me.
She holds me close
and sets me free.
She is my glory and my joy.
She’s made a man of this lost boy.
I’d drag the stars from out the skies
to show her how much light she brings.
There’s heat and warmth to every day.
The love I feel I cannot say.
Words seem weak and faded things.
I give my heart. She gives me wings.
A fire inside me blazes, burns,
as I wait here for her return.
My heart is bursting with such love
it challenges the sun above.
The Dreaming Path 