Sometimes, when I can't sleep, I lay awake and gaze upon your face -lips pursed. but showing content as you breathe a sigh and roll onto your other side. It's moments like these I like to pretend that hand tracing figures on my hip belongs to you - but it doesn't.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Colour My World
"When you colour my world just paint with your love (colour my world)."
***
***
Your smile always turns my world a different shade of grey as it attempts to burst into colour - into life; supressed for so long. Only, today it threw my world back into the darkness. Your smile broadened, extending the distance between us and pulling you closer to another's shoreline. Love was always the colour in my black and white vision, now I'm just blind - left with the memories.
***
"Like the rose - Oh, darling you put colour in my life. Baby, take my heart forever 'cause I don’t wanna be afraid... No, no."
Outgrowing Coats
My darling, A. J. V.-
I had a dream about you last night - again. You were lip-locked with that too-hot girl from my nightmares, hands travelling south (and fast). Stupid little skank, does she even know? (Yes.) She tipped her head back, creasing the freshly ironed sheets on our bed, and her eyes met mine (direct connect). Move by move you slowly placed the needles into my body, kissing all of my favourite places on hers. Do you even know? (Yes.) She mentioned me and you brushed it off, shedding the idea like a coat four-years too small. You still fit me like my favourite little summer dress.
Maybe it's time for me to follow suit and outgrow that, too.
I had a dream about you last night - again. You were lip-locked with that too-hot girl from my nightmares, hands travelling south (and fast). Stupid little skank, does she even know? (Yes.) She tipped her head back, creasing the freshly ironed sheets on our bed, and her eyes met mine (direct connect). Move by move you slowly placed the needles into my body, kissing all of my favourite places on hers. Do you even know? (Yes.) She mentioned me and you brushed it off, shedding the idea like a coat four-years too small. You still fit me like my favourite little summer dress.
Maybe it's time for me to follow suit and outgrow that, too.
Say Goodbye, Kid
"Curiosity is over. I stepped down from the car. He pulled a gun from his jacket, said I was going to die."
***
***
***
I drove to the middle of no-where yesterday and knocked on death's door, only to be pulled from the dream by reality's cold hands. It has the kind of grip you expect from death - bony, but strong (frozen through and through). Death was the warm one, inviting me to sit at the hearth.
I sat and warmed my hands over the dull glow of the embers, "They're fading," he said, "Because you're going to die." I felt cool metal meet the back of my neck. "It's a shame you're only a kid - you didn't get to live much of life," his voice cooed into my right ear, breath tickling my skin like the summertime breeze. "Then again," he added, mercilessly, "Maybe I'm doing you a favour, taking you from the world before it shows its true colours."
Click.
"Say goodbye, kid." He finished, cooly, pulling his face from mine, "Say goodbye."
I sat and warmed my hands over the dull glow of the embers, "They're fading," he said, "Because you're going to die." I felt cool metal meet the back of my neck. "It's a shame you're only a kid - you didn't get to live much of life," his voice cooed into my right ear, breath tickling my skin like the summertime breeze. "Then again," he added, mercilessly, "Maybe I'm doing you a favour, taking you from the world before it shows its true colours."
Click.
"Say goodbye, kid." He finished, cooly, pulling his face from mine, "Say goodbye."
"It gives me so much satisfaction, to watch you beg and cry. Well I just made up this story, to get your attention (makes me smile)."
Oh, Mister
"Mr. Writer, why don't you tell it like it is? Why don't you tell it like it really is before you go on home."
***
Sometimes a pen-name is all it takes for the truth to come out - even if it reaches nobody in particular. It's a clean start, where I get to tell it like it isn't, or maybe like it is - who would know?
***
She woke early that morning - it seemed to her the sun had peered through the window and kissed her cheeks before its time; they were rosy already. Squinting, she glared at the whisps of cloud in the sky, cursing them for not being thicker and allowing her to lay in, but her gaze soon softened as she opened the window; let spring's fresh scent reach and fill her nostrils, pulling her hair back from her neck. A gentle tremble passed down her spine, reaching forward into her stomach as it wrapped its arms about her body, wracking her in shivers.
She could already hear the movements of her busy-body neighbour, whose real name she never could pinpoint - it seemed to change regularly. Wheeling the bin down his garding path, he was grumbling audibly as usual. Her gaze shifted from the elderly man to his house. His navy-blue curtains were drawn across the windows, keeping the sunlight and its joy from its depths.
She spoke at a near whisper, words secretly aimed at the eldery man, "Oh, Mister... Couldn't you open the windows and let the sun in today?" She sighed softly, kneeling up on her bed and gazing out of the window, arms folded. "Why can't you tell it like it is, instead of adding rain to the sunny days - there is some good in life, just let it in." There was a sharp rapping against her bedroom door, "It's knocking - can you hear it?"
-
She woke early that morning - it seemed to her the sun had peered through the window and kissed her cheeks before its time; they were rosy already. Squinting, she glared at the whisps of cloud in the sky, cursing them for not being thicker and allowing her to lay in, but her gaze soon softened as she opened the window; let spring's fresh scent reach and fill her nostrils, pulling her hair back from her neck. A gentle tremble passed down her spine, reaching forward into her stomach as it wrapped its arms about her body, wracking her in shivers.
She could already hear the movements of her busy-body neighbour, whose real name she never could pinpoint - it seemed to change regularly. Wheeling the bin down his garding path, he was grumbling audibly as usual. Her gaze shifted from the elderly man to his house. His navy-blue curtains were drawn across the windows, keeping the sunlight and its joy from its depths.
She spoke at a near whisper, words secretly aimed at the eldery man, "Oh, Mister... Couldn't you open the windows and let the sun in today?" She sighed softly, kneeling up on her bed and gazing out of the window, arms folded. "Why can't you tell it like it is, instead of adding rain to the sunny days - there is some good in life, just let it in." There was a sharp rapping against her bedroom door, "It's knocking - can you hear it?"
-
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