Good-Bad

He speaks, but she never listens.

He reaches out, she draws her hand away.

He lays out his soul, she ridicules him.

He confides in her, she seems not to care.

He cries silently, her laughter rings in his ears.

He tries constantly, she never notices.

He walks away, she doesn’t understand why.

He becomes hard, another good one lost.

Her Flower

Closes her eyes and breaths in deep,

feels the heat of her tears,

tastes the sweet irony of her salty tears.

Opens her eyes,

fear grips her again.

Close...

Open...

Close...

Open...

It doesn'tchange,

she knows its not a dream,

yet it feels so surreal.

The nightmare unwinds,

her sanity unravels.

 She hears a scream ...realises the shrill strangled sound is coming from her inner core,

 vibrating with the pain that surges through her.

Her palms are raw,

 there’s a metallic taste in her mouth.

She bites down harder to stifle the sobs rocking her body

Embraces herself and closes her eyes one last time.

Her head is heavy,  

her heart wary,

her ‘flower’ crumpled and damaged

She drifts off ,

her last thought is the hope of the sweet release of death.

A warmth embraces her,

 her body is whole.

 She floats like a ghost among the clouds beautifully weightless,

 a serene painted with a gentle brushstroke across her face.

 She reaches down, her flower is in full bloom.

In that moment she experiences a freedom like none other,

Each fibre of her being released.

She wakes suddenly,

 sadness fills her yet she smiles.

She is a woman of immeasurable strength.

Her flower will bloom once more.

Opening line

Being honest, I started this blog as an outlet. Lately life seems to be speeding up and I have to move whether I manage to keep up with the pace or I get dragged along and torn to shreds in the process. I'm just going to vent: raw and clean: from mind to text....no pausing.
I find poetry and spocken word the best tools of expression. Just going to put it all out there, critisize or compliment if you must but know it wont change anything but don;t let that prevent you from dropping a line or wanting to post something...diversity is the spice of life.
And it begins....

Hope

Warmth of the sun touches my skin like the dew drop from the petal of a rose on a cool morning,

 as dawn breaks chasing away the dæmons of yesterday,

 brushing my forhead with the promise of hope.
With a new day's dawn comes dreams of childhood past,

belief in the impossible,

 the unseen,

things yet to be known.
The pain fades away,

 into the horizon where land meets sky.

Sun's rays break through the shadows like a baby's first smile as she grasps her mother's finger for the first time symbolizing a never ending bond that will stand the test of time.
A cool breeze brushes my cheek, cooling yesterdays anger,

seeping through my skin filling me with a sense of peace helping me to forgive,

 let go,

feel renewed,

believe again.

hope springs new.