unfamiliar shapes

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Image courtesy of: Starryjohn

[I]

Look! The lovers are throwing themselves
over the moon, as the lost ones fall into
gravity’s embrace – stumbling, fumbling
children making their homes in the forest of thorns.

Tendrils of worry fill their mind as they wonder
what sins they were paying for, bodies bruised,
egos torn, instinctively clinging onto themselves
and each other in the shadows of the stars.

[II]

We set our fears on fire to remember who we are,
reminding ourselves that the dying galaxies
blinking so innocently up above are not ours to
wish upon and that we must keep moving with the
rise of the morning sun.

Even though there is an itch at the edge of our hurt,
fingers trembling, we shall resist the urge
to crush our capillaries into unfamiliar shapes of kindness
we were never afforded, we know we cannot gift it
without mixing in shards of bitter bone, swallow
words like they are contraceptives against rejection.

Let the blood pool inside these soft shells,
bathe our fragile hearts in our own warmth, realise
there is nothing in the world outside us worth
latching our teeth into.

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waste-landed heart

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Moving Image Courtesy of: wiffles

once upon a time
she hardly remembers,
the girl with tumble weed hair
and rose petal lips
was not afraid of heartbreak.

she kept her head held high
so she could learn
from birds in the sky
how to gently unfurl
the delicate wings encasing
a heart three-sizes too big
for her hope-filled chest
watch her as she breathes in
the meadow-scented winds.

Continue reading “waste-landed heart”

The Combustion Triangle of the Heart

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in a world
without trust,
I will no longer feel the heat of betrayal

in a world
without betrayal,
I will no longer find fuel for hope

in a world
without hope,
I will no longer need to hold my breath

they say fire
needs three elements
to expel the dark

but I’m afraid
that a stray spark
could burn the entire town to the ground

perhaps it is worse,
that nobody can ever wring this wretched heart dry
and I shall drown in this lake named sorrow.

Continue reading “The Combustion Triangle of the Heart”