Oh the colours spread across the pitch black city sky, red, orange shooting dragons. The kaleidoscope of fireworks warmed my heart, just like thoughts of her.
Turning to kiss her soft hair, looking into her eyes I know I’ll only see the world from now on through the colours of love. She was my sight and all I need to see a brighter world.
Round and roundSpinning, screeching and grittyThrough smooth and roughIt takes you through, regardlessDesirous of nothing butSimple attention, water and oilSometimes a doctor’s visit is requiredCheaply healing, at their own personal costIt’s errors all at the doorstep of its ownerIt’s doesn’t forgive,neither needing apologiesA simple machine, imbued with so many partsA simple mission, so many pathsDo we even care for the sounds,settling sounds dispelled after a missionTo get us there in good time.
Love so akin to casper the friendly ghostAlways there with kind wordsTo uplift, console and give you that eye in the skyThat makes you feel cared forWhen it finally goes badIt haunts for a lifetimeA string of bad love affairsA closet full of nasty ghostsSome more visible than most
Breathing the frozen air, my rustling footsteps the only sign of life in this forgotten garden of time, green aged stones and twisted trees with a sea of leaves as its carpet. I know my spot despite my eyes, as I touch flashes of our past and countless others blend in. Holding my breath, breathing in the sweet nostalgia of forgotten love.
This time ‘79 you were on your knees before me, tears spill even now to wash my worn ring. Encrusted with our names. I feel your love as I did then,but this approaching darkness holds a comfort I need. The thoughts of you gone invoke the darkness I feel. I have aged, so has our garden. I will wait till death comes my love, till I call your name out loud for the last time.
Written for Friday Frictioneers Challenge
Quick, slick John as he was called, a playboy. Today the day to close the books on her, she was dry. Cutting ties was necessary.
He steps out the building and a voice simply said; that is him. The beginning of the end, his lover was the Admiral’s blood.
John knew life as he knew it was over, as quickly as he lived. Just like quicksilver.
Behind black fence lines
She walks, slowly and surely
Swaying her grey floor length skirt,
And an even greyer top
On her childlike body Continue reading “Behind Black lines”
waiting, waiting for me to be fully conscious.