Somehow grey emptiness consumes me tonight
Like the cigarette smoke in my lungs
Coating me inside to
The yellow smell on my fingertips
Last time I was ate up
By cool wind that carried mist from the north
I drew paragraphs of lines,
My coffee-cream summer skin
Broken up with red like my hibiscus tea.
I watched it seep up with force.
I expelled demons I left unnamed
Refusing to give them proper housing.
But they have returned, trying to claim what I never had
They cling like peasants to bread
Roasting my soul in their brick oven
Burning the edges and melting me at the core.
I’m sitting here, with just one light
It’s quiet, it’s cold
And my thoughts drift to you,
As they always do,
I wonder if maybe
Things will shape up
Maybe tonight, I’ll see your face
Or maybe in the morning
I’ll be surprised with a kiss,
Just one little kiss,
That’s what I’d like
To give my life, its much needed spike
I’ll hear your voice
As you whisper a sweet goodnight
And I would whisper back
Something sweet, but silly
We could laugh, in short little giggles
Till you fell asleep
Though I would lie awake
As I always do
Pressing a little closer to you
I’d close my eyes
And focus on your breathing
The movement of your chest
Against my back
I’d drift to sleep
Just to find you again
Laughing in my dreams
My friend; sydneyranae.wordpress.com
It’s Spirit Week at my school and the theme was “Fire and ice” [Lame, I know.] So we came up with this idea and she dressed as Jack Frost.
After school I made a comment on how much I enjoyed “Jack’s” purse. This was the response.
"Everything I know about morality and the obligations of men, I owe it to football." — Albert Camus..................... "If God existed, he would be a solid midfielder." — Aleksandar Hemon................……………...........................