Becoming

In a quiet corner

Of my existence

You bring order

Without persistence –

You’re a hoarder of resistance

And

It’s not a story of holding hands

But of holding our breath

As you implore me

To become my best.

This is how you show you adore me –

I’m blessed.

All words and images (c) of the original artist 2015

Winter Sun

Cold and broken

Free of emotion,

He would not love anyone –

He would not thaw in the winter sun,

There would be no commotion,

He’d won.

All that was left for her to do

Was to become frozen through too,

She would not love anyone,

She would not thaw in the winter sun –

This was the cost,

She’d lost.

All words and images (c) of the original artist 2015 and may not be reproduced without permission.

Now You, Then Me

NOW YOU, THEN ME

So now you know how it really feels,

To be given permission to go off and be free,

To never hear the words ‘God, please don’t leave me.’

Because being possessive and clingy just isn’t PC,

Because to admit this thing and commit to this fling

Just wouldn’t be hip,

Your fangirls and boys wouldn’t tag it as rad

Or comment ‘I dig’

And the reality of our freaky bond

Would no longer be hid.

And if you ever actually did

Let them know

Or even dared to show

Me then it really would defy convention,

And strip away pretensions.

You’d be the hipster outside the box

The One with the really neat fox,

But you don’t believe in it that much,

To go round admitting it and such,

So go ahead and be free,

Chase your own tail and dreams,

And if you ever need me

I’ll be back here in reality.

If you love someone let them go

But what if they don’t though –

Love you?

Does it work then too? Will it work for you?

What’s good for the goose is good for the gander,

So now I’ll make my own propaganda,

And make believe I really am the star,

That you clearly already think that you are.

I must have missed you getting famous

So I must apologise,

I must have missed everyone judging us,

Before my very eyes.

I had forgotten that they mattered, you see,

I had thought that it was just about you and me,

So when you’re alone out there among the masses and life is hard

By all means send me a postcard,

But don’t scribble ‘Wish you were here’s

Because I would have been

If not for your fear

Of chipping your polished veneer

And letting someone real get near

My dear.

(c) Words and images belong to the original artist and may not be reproduced without permission.

 

Flame

Flame

A fiercely gentle flame,

Not to scold but to hold,

Not to burn but to warm –

An old flame,

One that weathered the storm,

Ashes just beginning to appear

Somewhere among the embers,

Made up of things remembered,

Settling among stories, tributes and blame,

Did you ever hear the quiet roar of a single flame?

Did you ever think it such a shame,

That you didn’t get to hear it more often?

That the quiet roar could probably soften

Even the harshest blow,

As you thawed yourself in its auburn glow,

And added some kindling from your flammable soul,

Ignite the heart and let it roam

Free

As it should be.

(c) All words and images belong to the original artist and may not be reproduced without permission