empty spaces

listen to me
with your heart
 
stop waiting 
for me to say
the perfect line
of words
that you
want to fit
in between the
needy spaces
of your bones
 
i’m not talking
to you
from my lips
anymore
 
I’m tired
of throwing words
around like knives,
and watching them
tear
into the softest
pieces of both
of us
 
instead
I will let
the silence
soak deep
into the
invisible crevices
of our skin
 
and wait
for the truth
to find her voice
in the silent places
that thump
loudly
behind
my rib cage

photo boxes and red leather shoes

today we went through
the remnants of you
 
a box of school papers,
drawings of stick people
long and strong, standing like
the pillars those people were for you
 
I help your mom decide
what to keep and what to give away
impossible decisions when
this is all that is left of you
 
we find your favorite shoes
the ones I bought
the day after you moved in with me
funny how shoes
can mean so much
a world of memories
in worn red leather
and white shoelaces
I hug them for a while
as your mom reads a letter she found
where you confess your young love
but never delivered it
did they ever know?
perhaps it was your secret
(until now)
 
your entire life
reduced down to small flashes
kept in a box
 
I pick up a photo of you
when you were 1 year old
our bald copper-skinned baby
that always smiled at strangers
and ran to me whenever I was around
your sweet angel face
looks back with such innocence,
I find myself choking the tears back
for fear that this baby could read it on my face
that she would be diagnosed
a year after this photo
and carry the weight of a lifetime of
sickness and fighting for your life
with traces of happiness squished in between
 
my brave niece, never blaming
never angry
always finding ways to enjoy life
despite the hospitals, needles, and pain
always comforting rather than being comforted
 
when I close my eyes,
I still feel
your warm flesh and soft hand
 
I put the photo down
and hide it in the bottom of the pile
so that you, my beautiful little baby,
cannot see the design
from the telling sadness in my eyes
that you would die at 19
and leave us behind
hugging your shoes
and reading your letters
and not wanting to let anything go
to hold on to each piece and fragment
so we stop feeling like we’re losing more of you
than we already have
 
 

awakening

eyezoffyre:

found the oak tree tonight
he had been calling me
for some time
waiting patiently
never pushing
but I found him
and I realized his perfect beauty
and I stood in awe
as I touched his bark
and gazed up at the stars
through his limbs
thicker than my body
the leaves spoke softly
the fireflies gathered
the grass was moist beneath my feet
and I remembered
and I wondered
and I felt…

drowning pool

I lost myself
somewhere in between
those chocolate brown eyes
and the way the corners
of your lips curl upwards
when you smile at me
and I’m not sure anymore
where I begin
and where you end

perhaps
it is in that special place
where you rest your lips
upon mine
and our breath
becomes one

but I know now
it doesn’t really matter
because as long as
those deep pools
you call your eyes
are the ones
I get to stare
in to every night
before I fall asleep
I’m ok with losing pieces
of myself inside of you 

erosion

eyezoffyre:

you once told me
that regardless of our love
mother river
always changes her course
leaving a trail of destruction
to create a new path

it made me wonder 
if she does this
to erode away the mountains
so they fall into her depths
to be washed away into nothing

and does this mean
that I must also die 
and my heart be worn away
into grains of sand
to be worthy of your love?

the secret river

eyezoffyre:

If you do remember me,
please don’t remember me
as just some voice you heard
from across the great water…
voices fade from memory
and dry up like the last summer rain.
instead remember me as a woman
that said I love you
from the core of her being,
and her love wasn’t just a
feigning romance, a simple pleasure
to feel for a fleeting moment,
it is something alive, beating to the tune
of needing you:
  I want you
  I so want you.
Please don’t walk away
with just the memory of my eyes…
the ones you said burned themselves
like shadow ghosts into your retina.
I don’t want to be
some silly leftover romance
that started like a nuclear bomb
and ended without a whisper.
I want to be the one 
that you wanted completely, that got into
your breath and you can’t shake it.
I understand, really, that we met 
at the wrong time,
that our lives are already in place…
and so I don’t dare ask
for anything from you -
but if I could, I would simply ask
just to hear you say that
I am still there,
in your breath,
singed into your retina,
my blood in yours,
a never ending silent tenderness…
a secret raging river
that will never go away.

the blood red dawn

the decade had dawned
as the room turned blood red
and i danced until the 
stars fell from the sky
and shattered like glass
at my feet
and i continued moving 
my body to the music as 
the shards of the last
10 years cut deeply into 
the wounded memories at my feet
and the surge of the
heavy hitting rock n’ roll 
swayed in my spirit
and a newness washed over me
as the past years were
drained and a new
dawn radiated into being
at the tips of my 
smoldering fingertips

an artists new years eve rambling

To the dreamers
and mythmakers
who reside in two worlds like myself
half in our dreamland
of mists, fairies, and tigerlily thoughts
and half in the ‘other’ world
full of screaming shards
of half-dead lacklusters
living the life of an artist trips a person up
it gives us solace and comfort
yet a restlessness with the outside
this year ends for me with piles of poems
and pieces of art urgently whispering in my head
the warehouse is full, my thoughts
are overwhelming
opening up like a sabled fountain spray
of ideals and indigo wishes
it’s a new universe in here
this quiet place of mine
to be one with oneself
a pixie
a goddess
a wellwisher
to keep going, restlessly
muddling through the thoughts
and images that disallow me
to see things through ordinary glasses
to be like the ‘others’
through trials and grief
the contoured days and sunken nights
to be forgotten once in a while
and treated like an abandoned
little piece paper, insignificant
unless they remember on it is written
something they need for a while
so here is to having lived
and living
a life of being a poet, a visionary
an artist, and magician
an orchid amongst the heads of lame wheat
raise your magic pens and paintbrushes
my creative wonders
and cheers for those like us
and for those unlucky enough to live
in the ordinary, the mundane
and least not forget the
weary and poor
the sick and the lost
the souls with nothing left in this fragmentary world
and to our mother Gaia
here’s to imagination
here’s to me
here’s to a good fuck
here’s to being a fugitive
sane in an insane world
drink in the madness of the constellations
my dear friends
for we shall start our next phase
with our eyelids on fire
and fumes from our magic fingers
I hear the stars smiling
 

bloom

eyezoffyre:

from my bedroom
I listen to the last summers rain
softly tickling the dehydrated earth
 
little kisses of love straight from heaven
like a beautiful dance
to remind an old lover she can be young again
if only for one more season
 
the sound echoes
across the empty walls
as if to tell me
my life has been parched
and dry, waiting on something
for long enough
 
it is time to fill it up
and let summer explode in my heart
 
to fill its walls
with colored delicate petals
pregnant with promise
and splendid fruits
 
nourishing my hope
as love blossoms underneath my skin

surrender, part 2

When you come to me,
uncover my body
completely.
I will surrender,
and be without resistance for you.
 
As you lead me towards the bed
you guide me to the realization
of everything we both yearn for.
 
When we lie down gently,
I will call out for you.
 
Slowly,
I let you undress me,
piece by piece,
never saying no.
 
I offer everything,
completely.
 
In seconds
we will be naked and free.
I lie on my back,
sheer ties
restraining my movements.
 
Everything I have
that you want revealed,
I offer willingly,
for your gaze,
your touch,
our pleasure.
 
I am yours, I say,
please take me.
 
And taking me.
you revel in my glory
and whisper:
 
Bow down to me,
surrender,
there is no higher way.

my knight, my sculptor, my slayer

eyezoffyre:

Now that you have allowed me
to remove the armor that
covered your heart,
my shining dark knight,
I cannot remove my eyes from the
sword you have aimed at my loins,
as the muscles ripple across your body,
each careful stroke pushing forward
reshapes the motion in my own body.
I beg of you with quiet whispers…
do not abandon this blade, my lover,
use it to sculpt  a new me.
My sweet and firm Botticelli,
carve your love into the depth of my soul…
shape me with your magnificent dagger
so that I can become your Venus..
Breathe in the steam that rises
as you dip your lance into my soft flesh.
It’s a new breath for a new life
that beats a new path into our existence
as we revel in our own nakedness.
Yes, great sculptor, please -
slay me,
over and over…
and then kill me again.
 

my knight, my sculptor, my slayer

Now that you have allowed me
to remove the armor that
covered your heart,
my shining dark knight,
I cannot remove my eyes from the
sword you have aimed at my loins,
as the muscles ripple across your body,
each careful stroke pushing forward
reshapes the motion in my own body.
I beg of you with quiet whispers…
do not abandon this blade, my lover,
use it to sculpt  a new me.
My sweet and firm Botticelli,
carve your love into the depth of my soul…
shape me with your magnificent dagger
so that I can become your Venus..
Breathe in the steam that rises
as you dip your lance into my soft flesh.
It’s a new breath for a new life
that beats a new path into our existence
as we revel in our own nakedness.
Yes, great sculptor, please -
slay me,
over and over…
and then kill me again.
 

Top