Naked words float along the stream
Nothing but self fulfilling prophecies
A spiral of confessions melts off my skin
And the wandering eyes drift onward
When I come clean
These words only cut me as I sink along the bend
Under the waves of melancholy memories
I’m a prisoner wailing to a siren
And no one knows where to find me
Painting the walls of my mind like an inspired child. Fingers too small to hold the colors of the world.
The melodies of morning draw curtains on the road. And in this music box a carousel of animals transforms into an ecstasy of blur. And nothing is clearer or more beautiful than the loss of form.
As the sun cascades through eyelashes and let’s innocence push past the stones,
Love floods like a river of freckles on a baby’s nose.
Like the crooked marks that bring life to a page.
Like the walls that become the dreams of our youth.
Like the trees that plant kisses on a soul.
Like the skin that carries the lives of our bones.
And in these moments the heart speaks, fingers grow bigger and crayons give into the gravity of the world. And trying to understand becomes absolute as feeling transforms into a word.
Here we are as lonely souls, hearts outstretched for a hand to hold.
Here I am a child painting on my wall until my voice is earned.
And nothing is clearer or more beautiful than the loss of form. And the ways in which with hopeful eyes we can be anything or anyone.
My eyes could only focus on the curtained view of an elsewhere place as I stared out of your window that day.
Knowing what was beyond the broken, you stitched together the freckles of my back as it breathed with heavy, tear stained songs. Remnants of my youth that trickled beside an ink-ladened parade of scars danced in the day.
And I watched you in parts, as the whole of me diluted in the poison that I made.
The smoke as it evaporated from your teeth.
The strands of your hair that filled with color as the sun gilded you with light.
The lips that never parted but still smiled with sweetness
I wondered how young you were when you lost your laugh and if I was in another mirror wistfully searching for mine to return.
An innocent but insufferable desire to fall so sweetly into a warm, dark place left us wrapped beneath a veil amidst the fragmented; tenderly and beautifully alone.