I have bent like the wildflower fields under the windy darkest night. I have broken everything and had to put it back together. I’m aware we have never crossed paths. Yet I’m caught by the shore of your lips and the asylum of your caresses. We should count the poems we write and our day dreams though. There is an aether that holds us both in its tender.
There are obstacles and intersections and my tongue knows the way around them all
there is a quiet strength in surrender, something that they do not teach in school but aesop knew, the nimble reed against the mighty oak, it seemed like bullshit until you showed me your reserve and suddenly it became the easiest thing to imagine, you tempered my malleable nature leaving something stronger reflected in your eyes that guides me through the night, the fables bleed our truth in echoed tones
I’m a puddle of regret wrapped up in my heart do it drips like torture over your lips and throat leaving me dying on your doorstep
It’s a gorgeous thing, how the sunrise takes my breath away every single time. Maybe I’m not that girl from the other side of the tracks but I’ll always be the moonbeam from the other side of a starry night just waiting for daybreak. I’ve set myself against old scars and stained sheets, knowing I’ll remind you of broken things. The bitter truth behind my eyes becomes a recognized chaos under your gaze
You’ll understand me better if my lips move over your collar bone
there is a malady entrenched in the gelatin in my skull, this dummy brain, a mannequin’s sawdust array of blank eyes inset in porcelain dolls that whisper of my faults, smearing unwanted falsehoods across the paintings behind my eyes, insistent something, anything, is wrong in the calm of twilight musings, until every idea is perverted into a mockery, until the waves of futility covers my gasping face, until she smiles and reminds me, it is okay, i am okay, she accepts my surrender with supple grace
You asked for gentle and you asked for it hard, wake up and change my mind
EC is the eye to my storm, but don’t mistake her for anything less than a category five hurricane of perfection on her own right.