Tag: writing

Posted on

The Keepsake

You tell me to keep singing,
I am. Without words, there’d be no songs.  I made that.
Listen to my sweet, sweet blues,
my high, high reds, and my low, low browns.
I am singing.  I’ve never stopped.
You’ve just stopped listening.

You tell me to keep singing,
And I tell you, I am.  Tell me, what would you like to hear?
Do you want to turn my blues into red, my red into blues,
and for me to have no colours in-between?
To turn me into you?

You tell me to keep singing,
I am singing.  I’ve never stopped.
You’ve just stopped listening.

 

Posted on

Broken

You called yourself a failure because you chipped a finger nail.
That’s when I knew I needed so much more than you;
and you needed so much less of me.

Posted on

WGBN

Some day people will ask, ‘what inspires you the most?’ I will turn, look at you, and without having to say one word, they all will know my answer.

Posted on

Betrayal

You tell me that love is not always beautiful;
a lie betrayed each time I look into your eyes.

Posted on

Freedom

Each day for 40 years, he asked her to marry him, and on each day for 40 years, she said ‘yes’.

She once asked him, ‘after 40 years of marriage, why do you still ask?’

‘Just in case you’ve changed your mind,’ he replied, ‘just in case, you’ve changed your mind.’

Posted on

Limitless

You freed me.
With you, my limited world, became limitless;
and all that was impossible, suddenly became possible.

Posted on

Squeezed

I took your hand and squeezed it so hard, I thought I’d die.

In not letting go, I didn’t realise that I klled you instead.

Posted on

The Long Goodbye

Unable to hold back my tears, as I packed a suitcase. ‘Why are you leaving? This just makes no fucking sense!’ You are yelling, taking things out of the suitcase, as I put them in. I have to admit, it made no sense. None whatsoever. I am in love with you. There is no doubt in my mind about that and have been since that first day you spoke to me. I knew that I wanted to marry you even before our first date. When I’m with you, when I’m holding you in my arms, when I’m kissing your lips, when I’m close to you, my world is complete. And that is the issue, without you, I am not whole. I am not free.

But I don’t say any of that. It wouldn’t help you to understand any better. Instead, I close my suitcase, and leave the house, our house, knowing that I’m leaving behind things I will never recover, and drive off hoping that I can make myself complete without you.

Posted on

Saggy

You are terrified of growing old and having things sag;
I am terrified of growing old and saggy without you.