Tag Archives: love

Personal Freedom

1 Sep

Relief, barrier broken

It’s time to welcome the flood.

I cry as if am broken,

Really I’m clear of the mud.

 

The rain is gone and I can see,

There’s the sun with its unadulterated glare

We were clearly never meant to be

Never again do I want to be there.

 

It hurt’s, letting go.

Freedom is mine

Why has it taken this long? I don’t know

On sweet peace, tonight I dine

Giving you up has been sublime.

Advertisements

Superstar

28 Aug

Looking back at it, you were the first

Standing there your crystalline blue gems

The ache is by far the worst

As I shortened my hems.

 

The soft little sigh with the gentlest of voices.

A depth that consumed me,

I made the most foolish of choices.

Longing for a dream, it never came to be.

 

Brightness in mind, not just in looks,

That fantastic sense of humour,

Wonderful taste in books.

Sometime a go, a brief little rumour.

 

Though I strayed from my goal

I’ve never gone very far.

With my tired worn out soul

I need to tell you, you’re my superstar.

You always will be.

 

This is my response to today’s daily prompt: Superstar

Beauty

10 Aug

Look in the mirror what do you see?

The on-going product of you and me.

Tired out eyes and dried up skin

A window to what lies within.

The screaming and shouting, still can’t say no

I don’t think I’ll ever quite let you go.

Then comes the night, dark, harsh and perfect

Every little inch I can’t help but inspect.

Long aching moments of childhood regrets

Saying goodbye I need to pay back my debts.

I’ll never forget this perfect little gift

I wish we hadn’t had to drift.

You’ll never know how much those words meant

Three sweet soft words perfectly spent.

I don’t think you get how much I’ll miss you

All I have left to say is my final adieu

Even though I don’t think I ever will.

This is my response to today’s Daily Prompt.

Weekly writing challenge: I remember

5 Aug

I remember

It was late 2008, maybe early 2009. Those were the days, the days that we spent, singing, laughing and loving every moment we weren’t in class. 20 minutes in the morning and then 45 for lunch so about an hour a day and that was all it took. A group of friends we were the perfect misfits. Well actually we called ourselves the ninjas until some idiot tried to blame me for coining the term lunch crew. I hated that phrase at the time and I still do. Ninjas are cool. Crews live on boats.

Words were flying across the group, not quite chaotic nonsense but hey we were teenagers so not far from it. In our normal room. I wish we’d taken more pictures in there.  For the briefest moment we tuned all of that out, lost in our own little world of head phones and iPods. We were talking about our favourite songs at the time and it was just after I had given up and given in. A decision I will forever regret as of a few weeks after this event when words were said in the far off land of the school ski trip to Austria. Words not registered that we have never spoken of since. You will never know how sorry am I for that night.

Either way back to the songs. My taste hasn’t changed, it is still Stockholm Syndrome and I will probably continue to love Muse for some time. You still like the band yours was by; I have no idea if it is still your favourite though. Walking Disaster, by Sum 41. You put my headphones in your iPod and told me to tell you when it really kicked in. Then there was the air drumming, guitaring and general loving of the song.

“It’s not as good because it’s the live version.”

“Ok.”

I wish I could have appreciated that moment at the time. Instead It’s here, crystal clear in my head yet most likely distorted by my mind given how many times it’s been repeated.

Hey look it auto-corrected the ps in iPod to be capitals. I guess that’s branding for you.

Also yes software, favourite has a u in it. I am English for God’s sake.

This is my response to this weeks weekly writing challenge, if you couldn’t tell.

Divided

1 Aug

Space, the frontier that feels like it’s there.

Some land mass and the endless seas.

Countries, bordered and separate.

Cities and villages not so defined.

Faded out suburbia all in one.

Buildings you fly by

without a care.

The walls are

Separating.

But not

In this

Room.

Tight, controlled and still. The tension hung thick in the air of this divided moment.

We are worlds apart and we always were.

This was my response to today’s daily prompt: a house divided.

Heated

31 Jul

This my response to the daily prompt: Drawing a blank. 

 

Roaring winds, angry against the rattling doors

soft white flakes building up throughout the storm

the blizzard rages on. Fierce. Bold. Senseless.

Whistling against windows and screaming in ears,

the unexpected pain at the harshest cold.

 

At the core of it all a flickering fire,

crackling tongues keeping the inside warm.

Other than that pure silence, not a word

not a sound, not a creak of the old oak floorboard.

Quietly he stands across the room, back turned

looking away fighting back the tears and this was the reality.

Storms don’t make it inside,

 

the shouting isn’t happening anymore and this is the end.

This is the long forgotten heat.

Unbearable. Humid. Still.

Outside

9 Jul

The rolling green seemingly endless

The forever endeavour spurring me on

The fresh little breeze tugging my hair

The silky soft words that lay in my brain

The thing about memories and how you appear

Twisted, contorted through a rose coloured lens.

The golden straw soft as a feather

The star shining bright throughout the dullest day

The rain the sun and the never ending sigh

The glittering blue of the big bright ocean

The mirror image reflected in pearls

Out of my mind, hopeless and out of control.

The never knowing fool at the end of it all

The people who you wish would keep out or stay in

The never made up mind of what should I do today

The heat that’s hard to beat clouding judgement

The one you never forget with the beautiful views and the sweet soft warmth

Outside of the world and outside of yourself.

This is my response to today’s daily prompt.