Without reading any of my written words Is it possible to truly know me? Mind musings, soul serenades This feels like the only accurate, undiluted Version of my being
If you've never met my body Maybe you know me better than most Or maybe to know me is reading both Poetry being the translation of my body language Into my mother tongue
So I'll lay my words down delicately, intentionally Hoping you see them A dialect spoken just between us Yes, you would know me I think you could know me entirely this way
The skies I fly are crimson red tonight Sailors below me prepare for tomorrow And as I reach the clouds I wonder what colors you are seeing.
I spend hours soaring through the airwaves Hoping to spot you somewhere But your wings have gotten heavy lately And you are drifting lower these days.
So I search beneath the white wisps To find you standing on the ground On the rocks where I first saw you In the twilight hours of an April day.
You look out into the ocean The waves are crashing after a storm You tell me that the sea is endless And you wish your faith could be that way too.
Upon the shoulders I kiss lightly You carry the weight of past concerns Still you confide in me Worries of your angel wings falling.
You cry out why would I love you If your feathers hit the ground If your eyes were to stop glowing And you could not fly with me again?
I pluck a white feather from my own wings Blowing it out to sea I assure you You do not have to be an angel To be able to touch the red in the sky.
I take out two more of my feathers Tucking them neatly behind your ears The ends weave their way into your head My love with you wherever you go.
The little spider Under my table Strung up a pebble To anchor its web And I am as curious As I am impressed By this mysterious Feat of engineering
Love and hate coexist together In one person A continuous fluctuation between Sympathy and disgust I want to ruin her I want to hold her head under water And watch her squirm
So I can drag her out Give her mouth to mouth Cradle her gasping body in my arms While I scream at her for being stupid Spitting and wiping my lips That were tainted from saving her
I hate her and I love her I hate to love her, never the opposite Never have I hated a person before And I have no reason to hate her More so I hate our transgressions I hate the wrongness we shared And the shame of it all
My hate is usually dulled to apathy The forgetting It absolves me, that forgetting It takes the two emotions and washes Them away I cannot feel one without the other
Ocean, I have a confession to make. I am just a small bird, a very small bird, You are endless and vast, How can I tell you I love you?
I have fallen in love with you deeply, As deep as your floors, your trenches; But you are so grand and I, Well I am just a bird, would you wave me off?
I have this fragile, mortal body And I am jealous of your infinite waters. How could you ever love me back When I exist for just one of your moments?
I am standing, twig legged, at your shore, I am watching the clouds kiss your horizon And I have never felt smaller, yet I am drowning in my adoration of you.
Since we are being vulnerable, And my feelings are likely unrequited, May I ask, Ocean, who is it you love? For whom does your body ebb and flow?
I would tilt the earth For snow drops and witch hazel For rare hints of color Bright against a white landscape
I would give up leaves For bare frosted branches I would banish the sun To see night in the afternoon
I would never swim again To skate across a frozen pond I would tear out July and August To have a calendar of Decembers
Give me a window that speaks That howls the names of blizzards I would tilt the earth To see cardinals shine in snow
Now my eyes watch moths And spiders, crickets in the night, Infinity's glowing diamonds, The darkest skies alight.
I keep company in blades of grass That were browned by the sun. An eternity of passions passed, If asked, I'll say it's done.
Belong do I to the moon And what it does to all the sea. It cycles through all I have left, We're bound, the moon and me.
I can write about love I can write about birds and cats And the movement of water
I can write about solitude About the comfort of silence And have it all mean the same thing
I do not care that When I speak passionately He smiles and his Eyes glaze over in confusion I do not care that He does not understand What I mean when I say The world inside me is glowing Or that the goldfinches Were singing to me in color
He is not meant to Understand my musings He is my rock on a crashing Shore that is always stormy My friend who sits By me and never asks for me To explain my layered words I care only that He is happy to share space And listen to me anyway
I crave the stability Of change The comings and goings Of people Of emotions Of attachments And the letting go
More specifically I crave the consistency Of growth The calm acceptance Of loss The parallels between Two lives flexing And bending and crossing
I crave the certainty That comes with Evolving beside My beloved Sailing down a river That splits And to where?
I crave the security Of knowing Nothing Wrapped in a warm Blanket of presence No future to make me Feel so uncertain
Make me a home inside you Build me a room With a lock and a key That you keep on a chain Around your neck
I have been a wandering soul But cage me and keep me With fire and fervor I am yours, I am yours In this room you are mine
Make me a home inside you Build me a room Of blackest obsidian For I am molten I could so easily melt you
"I can be someone's and still be my own." -- Shel SilversteinSide blog: @a-sign-of-fire
263 posts