Mey's Mind

maybe she shouldn't care about the yet unread poem she wrote her inner most fears displayed like a nude model on canvas ready to be gawked upon waiting for scrutiny, dissection in view but out of reach as he tucks it into his pocket bared to him dread settles into her bones

early morning call dawn breaks nighttime into day a lark's lonesome song colours change from grey to gold the sleeping world awakens

a full moon rides high distant humming is swelling unraveling me

standing alone staring into the void of what never was or could have been never far away your non-existing voice a life continuously on hold like stationary circles and never-ending lines a story, unable to unfold

we slept rested assured words were powerful enough to keep the world at bay we read poems and tasted unspoken truths we became poets in an unmade bed we re-imagined our own existence more beautiful more real we danced and loved life without living it how wonderful we were

Image by slightly_different from Pixabay

I should know you we've met I've felt your mind mingling with mine, our thoughts twirling like dancers we must have been delirious the dreams of dying the taste of blood your sky-blue eyes staring deep into mine breathe me in, stranger make me vanish again in love with madness

the darkness knows it listens    lies in wait she's anticipated its arrival long before love, she's felt its silent companionship always present just a few steps behind the shadows whispering she was destined to ascend shivering, barely daring to breathe the powerful beating of her heart within while cold hands caressing her heated skin such strange comfort bright eyes stare right into her soul piercing, pleading, demanding all the dying comes easy the damnation does not

I touch the book-spines imagine all the stories written inside by simply conjuring up images and words in my mind therefore these are my stories which I need not even write

Hei + hond + schapen + geblaat + stront = Veluwe.

                                          soft sweet words like little fragile flowers spring whispers winter away tenderly touching the trees with warm breaths

I remember now                  the giant tree in which we climbed high up into its crown to watch over our Kingdom for we were King & Queen    we ruled between its roots where I found childhood dreams secretly buried besides colorful glass marbles I found us   who we used to be

rage and desperation wearing the dead like a winter coat     keeping them close                                  trying to warm their souls already gone covering their graves with unshed tears the earth a silent witness no solace to be found in not letting go

winter ~ dreamlike days a pale sun sparkling on snow the silence soothing spring ~ earth giving birth snow melts, flowers start to grow life awakening

read, find your fire confined words can set you free the magic of books