WordTapestry

With You I like to think  that the girl I used to be only left me behind to keep you company. To whisper songs and stories like gentle  balms to your deaf ears,  to bring you warmth in hopes of conjuring forth a smile  even as you lie stony-eyed  and breathless beneath  the endless sea of grass.

Your Name Sometimes I whisper your name to myself,  write it out on the  foggy glass, say it  like a prayer into the waiting ears of the night. Don't worry, I always remind  the moon  how much you mean to me,  I look up at the sky  every time,  and try to see the world  with the wonder you would always hold. Rest assured that  I will never forget your name, but it tears me apart that you forget everything you were day by day, as the  frost thaws and the soil gnaws on  your cold bones-- much too many  for me to hold. 

Crumbs I am  the cookie crumbs  stuck to your palm.  Won't you  give me a taste  before you flick  me away? I promise  I am worth your  day, so please, oh please, won't  you let me stay?

In My Throat You have been gone for ten years and counting, each day without you is slowly mounting.  Still, your residual presence sticks  to the back of my  throat like some strange, moldy growth that I can never hope to be rid of.  I feel you there  each time I  smile, each time my voice thickens with tears,  oh, my dear,  you are the lump in my throat  that never disappears. 

Leech Without thinking, I let you  gorge yourself on my love, and with every bite, your appetite  like a parasite grows.  Soon, I'll have no  more meat on my bones,  nothing more to  soothe the hunger that  weighs you down like a stone. When I am nothing more than hard edges sewn in the dirt,  when you are left alone with  no more softness to hurt, starving, you will  scour the earth, skirt all  over its wide girth, but know that you will  never achieve the means for mirth with your heart rusted by malice and  greed  since birth. 

Sunset As the last  rays of daylight streaked across your skin in golden stripes,  As you looked up at me with sparkling eyes  brought back to life by the dying fire of the sky,  I realized with a start that I was the Sun and you were Icarus,  that we were a moth and a candle,  hopeless lovers held together by flames,  both and neither of us to blame for the resulting pain.    

Walls On tiptoes  I stand, trying  to see beyond your castle walls.  I hope you'll  learn someday that you don't need a fortress  to be strong. 

No Words I could unfurl the pages of all the books of the world,  stain my lips with their inky blood, and still  not have the words to  describe your loveliness that  overcomes me like a flood.  Oh, what a tragedy, that there will never be a day that I  can convey your true meaning,  for you have no definition,  no synonyms, no form.  You define me, yet I have no  idea what you are. You  are a creature born from starlight,  a deity of the night,  everything and nothing, and  to my great plight,  no words in the dictionary can express how I feel about you.

One Night With bated breath frosted by the winter air,  I watched your eyes crinkle  into half-moons as you spoke about something  neither here nor there.  Just us two loners standing in the  encroaching dark, your gaze blissful and mine, wistful. Though I really can't recall what you  told me that night, I still remember  how your eyes captured  the eggnog light of the streetlamps,  how your round cheeks  stamped with a pink blush made my  head spin and my ears flush.  Snowflakes like icy flowers  dusted your hair, clinging  to your lashes, compelling  me to stare. Graceless hands trembling,   I wanted so badly to brush your  icy lace away, but I didn't dare disturb the  serene smile on your face.

Dandelions In a hundred years, The world will  forget about you  and your stumbles and fears. But  do not mourn for the lost times, my dear, for each one of your words, your gestures,  your smiles, your tears will have taken root like so many  dandelion seeds in more people than you will ever know. 

bad breath when I do not speak,  it is not for  a lack of thought.  rather, I am afraid  that you will one day sniff out  from the undertones  of my  hushed breath,  the rancid stench  of rotting words  and moldy feelings left unsaid.

Firefly Somewhere,  within the tall, dead grasses of a valley far, far away,  your firefly heart flickers through the night, a forever wandering  little light. I still remember how I used to hold you  in reverently cupped palms.   Yet I could never  keep you by my side, for then, you  would no longer shine.

Thread With a red thread, you stitched up  my torn heart  and wove together all the pieces of us. Though my  wounds are now closed, and the thread holds  me together, I am still bleeding.

Fruit You, with your strawberry skin and  blackberry eyes, make my every move feel so clumsy and large. And though I want to taste all the sweet and sour  you hold, I am scared to break through that silky facade you don.  Because what if,  when the time comes,  I cannot swallow the  truth of your bitter core?

 My Cat  I am  most grateful When I see you bounding down the  hall toward me,  Tail curved  in a questioning grin.  How glad I am,  that in a lifetime of  decisions,  I chose you.

Nettles You  sting  my skin  like a handful of  nettles but I  hold you, still, in hopes of  the day  my skin will toughen and then  it will hurt  a little  less  to  be  by  your  side.  

 grocery list:  1. Two gallons of patience (concentrated, no pulp) 2. Honeycrisp apples  (to keep the doctors away) 3. A bushel of hopes and prayers 4. Two dozen chocolate chip cookies 5. A sprig of four-leaf clovers 6. A smile (sweet, not salty) 7. Sour cream and onion chips (a must) 8. A nicer version of You  (Note: #8 may be out of stock) 9.  A can of chicken noodle soup  10. Enough caramels to choke on

Three Minutes Three minutes before  the soldier dies, he closes his eyes, or maybe he keeps them open  to see the world one last time. Either way, it does not matter because no one will remember  these faint heartbeats of time. He is a sergeant, a major, a private. He has many names and none at all. Either way, it doesn't matter. After he dies, they won't call him Michael or John or Steven.  Etched in stone, he is forever only   a beloved son, a brother, a father. Two minutes before  the soldier dies,  he has never felt more alive. For in his mind lives his family,  his home and his dreams.  He doesn't feel lonely, or at least he pretends not to.  But it's hard to pretend,  when the world is so loud and  the voices he wants to hear are not there by his side.  Either way, it doesn't matter.  Because when he whispers  into the decaying light,  there will be no answer.  One minute before  the sol...

Anchor How  do you expect me to  move on  when I still feel  the weight of your words in my bones,  dragging me down like an anchor.  I cannot remember your smile, your eyes, your voice. Grief is all  I have left of you  so I will keep  holding on tight,   to this                                   frayed rope                  with all my might.  My chest burns,              my breath tightens,                     but I am feeling as lighthearted                      as a dream,                   because if I drown  at least                      ...

The Light of Day Deep in a forest, hidden from the morning light, lies a cave. It has been empty for a while, save for the occasional black bear. But the faded remnants of a woven straw garment and the crumpled remains of a bed made of vines indicate it was once home to a girl—a girl who was more beast than human.  The girl was cursed, you see, never to see the light of day. That's why she was sent away. They say that when, as a baby, she was introduced to the Sun, her flesh began to peel right off her bones. Her parents tried every remedy they could think of, emptied their pockets to witch-doctors and alchemists, and still, she could not be cured of the strange ailment. The family traveled from town to town, seeking an answer that could not be found. Worse, word of mouth traveled faster than their feet could run.  “A demon,” a villager would whisper to another, their gaze darkening day by day. “A she-devil.”  Hopeless and afraid, the father set off into the trees one eve...

Lust:                                                              Love: you                                                                oh you, are the thief of                                               my heart, you have consumed my lonely soul,                                              my throat is in your ...

Soulful You stared, entranced, at the starry night sky,  lips parting in awe.  But all I could see was the tilt of your head, and the curious curve of your smile.  How my chest ached,  and how my heart fluttered, for a turn beneath the warmth of your gaze.  I wished more than anything,  hoped that in another life, I could be the light that lives in your  soulful eyes. 

Bird There was a dead bird on the sidewalk, wilting at my feet.  Surely he was  no older than  a mere ten weeks.  The next time I passed,  My brows tightened, aghast. He had disappeared  without a trace only leaving a bloody smear for my downcast face.  Times like this, I wish I was younger.  Young enough to still believe, that he had woken up  from his slumber and looked up at  a world full of possibility.