loss – Letters For My Lovers

Bring Me Back

The perfect drizzle
defines the line between today and tomorrow
A morose specimen,
far too endearing to share with our peers
peers out of its receptacle;
a chill destroys its resolve
“if only pigs could fly,
then I’d get myself out of this darned mess.”
It thinks, unwillingly.

The home of a collector
is not to be taken lightly
on days where the sun’s power dwindles
and the comings of months of death
appear on the horizon.

One step at a time,
it creeps, occasionally lurching
towards a white cover of bliss.
Brought back to the silence
of a city’s breath drawn again
when a cloak of winter descends
leaving everything amiss.

At times, when the sea of stars seems
to lose itself in vastness of the night
I’ve often longed to hear crisp footsteps,
ones I’ve dreamt of ad-nauseam;
despite the harsh and cruel winter,
they echo the sound of my love’s path
finally finding its way back
into the warmth of my tender embrace.

Fabricated Sorrow

What is it, about being a woman
that drives us, to feel lust
nay, neediness, longing, expectations
of the opposite sex
to WANT, to need, to succumb
to loving us?

It’s like taking the first hit;
wanting every moment
to inevitably feel like the next.
A drug of the heart, a survivalist’s wet dream,
suddenly the nightmare of the other.

I loathe the void I’ve created
within the absence you’ve brought;
the coward who parades around
as a hearty lion, navy suit astounding
the driver of slumber long deceased
brought back to life in a dusty dream.

Nothing is everything,
it all resonates like bass hitting a temple
wishing for change, but unwilling to understand;
the dance slowly dies
as the reality of one love lost
bites the dust, of poetic abstinence.

Heed a lonely cry, in the distance
a single ring on a finger
symbolism of something so untrue
it might as well be dead.

I’ll die too young
to see the fruition of your honesty.

September and I

Life is crisp in the fall;
transformative times of leaves and tea
a cozy mess of understanding and love
where blue skies meet orange ents
and wasps formerly flew up mountains.

The greenery seems to take on
a hue of gold and hydromel,
beckoning the old gods to come forth
and sip from her offerings.

Seasonal fruits lose their passion
and brutish cucurbits resurface in troves
eager to potage their way
into hungry city-dweller’s lives.

From the inside of my glass cage,
nothing seems all that different:
the sun’s rays hit me in all the same places
but when the doors open again,
the wind will no longer be warm.

Absences & Influences

An absence of the mind,
brings thoughtful possessions
of dancing tongues
to a staggering halt
at the foot of a mountain.

A mountain of emotions,
so steep and slippery and tall
one might as well be swallowing soap
and trying to fly upwards
floating atop bubbles of bile.

An influence of the Universe,
vast and fearless in her knowledge
pushes Lilith to move on, evermore
beyond understanding and will,
she cries and begs it all to stop.

A peaceful anguish in knowing nothing,
desperately searching for meaning
in the heart ache and the projection
of loved ones gone and forgotten,
Lilith stands alone, once more, forever.

Loved – Ode to the Sea Pt. 3

Cry me to the Ocean
Accompany my words as they drift
Like sea glass, so beautiful and dull.
Sing me to the Storms
Caress my insecurities as they shift
Like babes sleeping, cradled by the lull.
Feed me to the Undercurrent
Destroy my woes with your gift
Like vultures, picking at the skull.
Take me to the Moon
Reflect on the depth of my tides as they lift
Like jagged rocks, smashing the hull.
Take me to the Edge
Hold my head under, make it swift
Like the drowning man failing to survive the pull.

Seen – Ode to the Sea Pt. 2

Staring out at your infinite nature
The melancholy of the World
Hits like a wave breaking on the cliffs
Vague memories sink into the abyss
May the fish be their keep

Tides rushing out, like your dying breath
A waning moon rings the end, again
Luck has never been a better actor
In this infinite opera of life and death
Mere misunderstood moments
Brought to life by a laugh, a smile, a touch…
Lest we forget the beloved, cradled in the deep

You’ll be a part of me forever, standing true
A shimmering star, or a déjà vu.
I will always be me,
And you will always be you
No matter how deep the knife cuts
Or how much I break and weep.

Lost – Ode to the Sea Pt. 1

Increase the murmur of your roar
Unbound force of eternally shifting worlds
Let the tides roll on heartbroken mounds
Banks of tears washed ashore

Your beauty captivates, breathless
Rendering young boys old, and old souls agape
Time immemorial bows beneath your shadows
Power to harness a million mournful moons

Many a few have wasted away in your waters
Embraced by the depths of the unspoken
Cradled softly by the currents
Of old wounds, and songs of solace

Kneeling in your wake, the last respite
Trembling hands, bracing for the breaker
As the rage subsides, glistening in the sun
You’ve taken him back, gentle in your favour

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