Creative Writing
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Up the ladder,holding the torch,waving light for a smilethat curves to a crescent,withers to the dark sidewhere light becomesevery blue shade. Symptoms of this.Flavors of your kiss,I reminisce, – while the curtains to the nightturn graywith the fog I’ve seendiscoloring your hair. Laid in the green,while I took a step apartfrom the scar, not the…
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For the infiniteknows no start to holda hand, on this sacred landwhere your lipswere the fine wine to tell mesecret words that werefolded in torn paper,a crippled heart. Just the end, to kiss youbeneath starlight and moonlight. Just the last momentwhere I lost it all;above your grave, absent of allI could not save. Just Heavento…
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Stripes painted silver,while those heated eyes in a riverbathe me, revive mewhile I meander in open thoughtson your presence.How many tears could we bleedat the end of the rope’s giver? Are you freeor am I,while the moon fadesinto another whimsical day?While our eyes became gray,faces stayed in rivers, idle in shades. All teardrops become stars,the…
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As I laywith wide eyes againstthe deadness, blanknessof a winter ceilingagainst the earthen nakedness,I recall thoseounces of teardropscaught at this mouth,from the stem that wiltedto bend them closer. Bring your voiceclose to mind.I am peeling my layersto hold you in the fog. Laying in death’s pain,healing in my dreams.I wait for your storm to come,to…
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Stay strongfor me, for whilethe tulips turn greywith the overcrossing twistof a storm that stings the eyes,there is still spring in yoursin the twin irisesthat bloom without the fadeof a cruel winter. While I love.While I give gracesto the massive spacesfar above,each teardrop will bedevoted to all the colored petalsthat accompany meon the hollow journeywith…
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At the edge of a vast ocean, the quantity of water that shows both reflection of our faces and stars, the hanging lights that we see from both angles; and we are wishing for something to stretch our hands out for. Maybe when the miles were longer, we were crippled of our backs and shattered…
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Stir the eyes.Travel infroth, for idle bathing.Mask the senses inwith the memory of your kiss.I have receded from beingagainst the shore,where the sun came to meas a rose. I kept bleeding.I have kept backingfrom wall to wall.A child from a mother’s hip,scrawling senselesswording to blank spaces,timeless voidswhere you used to belong. I always wishedto rewrite…
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Awaiting you,bandaged by the shadowsof the trembling leaves, behind.One kiss, I never hadin the embrace of your sunshine,while the moonlight now allowsthese tears to keep me blind. A broken dream,torn, fallen streamfrom a glimmering eye at night,while I hold your paragraphof tearstained devotion.I nestle your memoriesinto a bleeding furnaceof a heart. Your name leaks everywhere.Oil…
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Too many trips of guilt.On the way through blank starswhere we signal our avoided hearts,starting our dream in the void. Too many lessons of spite.We wait for our kisses to break oceans,to break the barriers of timefor love to follow. Of matter and what mattersinside funereal depiction.Nights drawn to crystal tearsfallen onto bloated flesh,while leaves…
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Yearning, hold a candleto the naked hourglass ofwind and time. Singular form witha cup, full of the desert.While you swaywith the eyes that followrepeated, understood rhythms,count the heart’s thudsbefore the oneagainst a bed of flesh. In love with deathwho possesses breath,still with the sinbreaking in with her kin,her kind who stirsinside this mind. Attention and…
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The distance, to believein tragic shores, grayest moorswhere we were loose on the sleeve,further apartfrom the embrace of reprieve. Droplets on the sleevedotting miles of plaid and plainup to the shoulder of your cloudswhere raining eyes were pressed,matching hearts are blessedbefore layers are undressed – to see the curve to swim against. Dive beneaththe sea,…
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All faces come together,weathered in rose.Blush at the cheek,silver in the breath.Deformed in winter,wilting with the drying tears,matching the puddles.The fading reflection – that weeps without looking back. A love resulting from Heaven,A Hell tossed from the skiesskipping on pools of magma hearts. There are marks in your stonesthat face the numbestof limbs, on the…
Modern Romanticism 