The crackling of the fire,
a warmth invading,
a flame igniting
my every curve.
Is that your spirit
just claiming
your possession,
or just the
simple memories
I live with
If you must stick around, do some good
Come push me,
come show me,
teach me,
guide me.
Have your spirit
be my mentor,
not my tormentor.
Tell him to seduce me
to live my life,
not crave your lust.
The mischief,
sadistic,
vampiric soul
is no longer
welcome.
Eyes attempt
to lose focus,
ping pong moves
along the confines
of the bright screen.
Impersonal calls
becomes the trap,
expressions that
can’t hide even
when they try.
That poker face,
almost succeeds at
hiding behind
the way it feels
to meet again.
…
And I Also Write Poetry
The walls that
separate us,
the seas that cover
all the footprints,
the deafening noise
that attempts to
cover, hide,
conceal
the love we
wish could
be set free.
None of that worked.
None of it
can keep
our souls away.
I still speak to you
without words:
in my daydreams,
in my…
Sweet and sour
summer power.
Wait all season
for a good reason.
Longest day,
I restfully lay.
Then the jarring bark
of the too-soon dark.
Dreams of
endless,
sunny days.
Summer incites.
Real become
the longer
nights,
ephemeral days.
Summer betrays.
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The company they keep.
Alone never means lonely,
as even when alone,
our company can take
a multitude of forms;
Air, fire, water, ice,
are the greatest company
that makes us feel alive.
Thank you, Harper Thorpe and the entire Chalkboard team for the one line prompt: Alone
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Is it philophobia that I feel,
or is it love’s own nyctophobia
causing it to elude me,
phobias clashing and exploding,
leaving floating pieces of
unowned, unclaimed love?
Friendship
that felt like an
unbreakable shield.
Hands
that felt like a
nesting cradle.
Love
that felt like an
almighty force.
Betrayal
that felt like a
piercing sword.
Absurdity
that felt like a
furious whirlwind.
Confusion
that felt like an
unanchored boat.
The words that
once guided me
became
the words…
