Posted in Word Prompt

Rivulets of Love (Repost)

Back in April the WordPress daily word was rivulet, today the word of the day challenge is rivulet┬áso I’m sharing this one again.

Standing beside you silence is broken even when nothing is said. Funny isn’t it? The stars and the sky; did they dance and dive, bring cosmic planes of every color into a swirling whirling dance of lightening intensity before your eyes met mine?

Has the world always fallen silent at the beckon of your gasp, a movement so sudden and rasp, or was it just mine?

Strange thing isn’t it? To feel everything you’ve ever been step into the light of everything you’ll ever be, knowing no matter the fragility broken will never be … again …

Oh this feeling, again and again. Melodies in languages I fear I will never understand, kisses along paths I may never travel beneath moonlit branches otherworldly in their desire.

It dissipates but not into illusion, a dream of roses and foreign spring days. It sinks beneath the current, becoming the undertow, dragging us along in this sweet abandon, forever familiar. You are home. You are forever, over and over and over.

Such are the rivulets of love that stream from our silent smiles, glancing eyes, as we stand quiet, forever reaching in fear of loving alone the other.

Posted in Word Prompt

Rivulets of Love

Standing beside you silence is broken even when nothing is said. Funny isn’t it? The stars and the sky; did they dance and dive, bring cosmic planes of every color into a swirling whirling dance of lightening intensity before your eyes met mine?

Has the world always fallen silent at the beckon of your gasp, a movement so sudden and rasp, or was it just mine?

Strange thing isn’t it? To feel everything you’ve ever been step into the light of everything you’ll ever be, knowing no matter the fragility broken will never be … again …

Oh this feeling, again and again. Melodies in languages I fear I will never understand, kisses along paths I may never travel beneath moonlit branches otherworldly in their desire.

It dissipates but not into illusion, a dream of roses and foreign spring days. It sinks beneath the current, becoming the undertow, dragging us along in this sweet abandon, forever familiar. You are home. You are forever, over and over and over.

Such are the rivulets of love that stream from our silent smiles, glancing eyes, as we stand quiet, forever reaching in fear of loving alone the other.

Rivulet

Posted in stream of consciousness

Bitter Pills

Yet another Sunday, it’s the end of March. What the hell?

Prompt- Swallow

Music: Wooden Shjips – Back To Land

Swallow your pride, it’s a bitter pill but it’s better this way.
Say the things you know will sting, slaps against the grain.
Anything to make you walk away.
Swallow arsenic words, poisonous to all around us.
Implode.
Anything to protect you from the mess I’ve become.
He was right you know,
Selfishness choked me on the way down
And I never deserved you.
Spin me into sweet melodies,
They slide down easier than reality.
Anything to hide the truth of what we’ve done.
Once I tried to take a handful of bitter pills
To forget your name, forget your face,
Forget the way I had you stamped in that place.
I fell down, busted my brain instead.
Now my thoughts leak and blend fact with fiction,
I can’t tell anymore what was real and what was just part of the mission.
All because we tried to swallow little bitter pills,
Is it better this way?
I hear they have a pill to answer
To straighten out our brains.
I don’t know, what do you think?
Maybe seeing stars isn’t a bad thing
If the answer is swallowing our pride
And staying side by side.


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Posted in Word Prompt

Threads of Gold

I want to lie between the lines.
To feel the words moving and sinking,
Gnashing and gnawing at the chains binding them so.
I want to sink into the crevices between the melodies,
The breaths between the chords.
To feel the rhythms beating and crashing,
Tearing and thrashing at the ropes holding them down.
I would inhale every heartbroken word.
Let it sink into my skin,
A permanent tattoo of something
Too strong to break yet too fragile to hold.
Something nurtured in the dark
Until it becomes too bold.
Let the waves crash over me,
Stripping my spirit clean.
Sew my pieces with your song,
Delicate threads of gold.


The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch