Tag: Love

Come the Morning

~ abykittiwakewrites ~ 1 Comment

Nervousness of new
And newer
Makes me sick to my stomach

We’ve got this
I say -not believe

We’ll make it through
Is more truthful
And I tell it to myself

I balance you on a memory
Have you recite all the words
The weeds with their gossamer heads
Explode into view
Memory begets memory begets memory begets you
Here with me now

Safe and sleeping as if the dragon’s den did not await us

Safe and sleeping as if your journey will not be long and solo

Safe and asleep as I long to be
Come the morning I will miss you

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Love Poem

~ abykittiwakewrites ~ 1 Comment

In yesterday’s film
Granite jaw he stands
The confidence of brown eyes
With lashes storied

Now softened all

And loved and lived in
This skin has never seen an iron
Or a chain

He opens in sleep and sprawls
Comfort
And safe
With me by his side
I do not deserve his trust
Yet he snores

Anxiety

~ abykittiwakewrites ~ Leave a comment

A jitter to her eyes

Half-steps bounce her close and closer to the wall

Neck stretched for a guillotine that will never hit

She’s asking me

To calm her down

To sing her a new lullaby

For the teenaged mind

I strum a cough

An apology for not being good enough

I’ve got one hand on her skeleton

The other trying to feed it into her skin

Humming cracks into calm exterior

Child, I say,

Child, I sing

Child, I cry

And crying is that new lullaby

And crying is that new lullaby

Awakening

~ abykittiwakewrites ~ Leave a comment

Strained clouds bleed

Pastel

Sequences without pattern

Or footsteps without man

Ghosts and formulas filling in for all we’ve loved

And all we’ve loved is one brain away

One false synapse from leaving us

For no other reason than

We had a hard time

No one would listen

I felt alone

In all that love?

In all that room.

Not a Burden

~ abykittiwakewrites ~ Leave a comment

Intentions turn the wipers on

A shimmering of anxiety

Touches my dancing soul

Chaos found me pretty

Willing to upend a life spent shivering in anxiety

But you thick and barnacled, wise and rusted

Found I needed a chain to shake about

Like a tambourine round the old camper

Found me beautiful in any state

Found me light as a feather

As a spark from the lighter

As the first day you lifted me far above your head asking

Tell me all you see and once you fly higher

Shout it down

I’ll make it out as best I can

Until I learn the language of your tongue

The Bad Crush

~ abykittiwakewrites ~ 3 Comments

i had a crush
a bad crush
the kinda crush that makes you think the other guy’s got a crush
on you
and i was above it all
not a toe cross the line
until i couldn’t see him at all
oh, i had a bad, bad crush
the kind you can’t tell no one bout
not even the crush
but i did good things for him
and wished him good thoughts
and in all that good i got caught
in a crush
a bad, bad, bad crush
the kinda crush you tell people he has
on you
cause it’s true
then it’s not
but you still have that bad, bad, bad, bad crush
i think i can see him again without looking away
i think i could even smile
a little
little smile
that has nothing to do with him at all
i think i can glow by myself again
and not wish to step up and out again
if he enters a room
i think i could write one last poem for him
even a bad bad bad bad bad one
and leave it at that

or maybe two

Birdsong

~ abykittiwakewrites

from his bathtub
he listens to birdsong
beyond closed windows

muffled bursts of sunrise
scrub away the bruises
long to ease his shoulders
shadows flickering as cars break the light

he hums himself a birthday
a conjuring of youth
murmurs her name
scent of blueberries and forget-me-nots
in the bubbles about his knees
smooths back his hair with water
and sits forward dripping

he whistles a response to the
trickle tickle of birdsong
and waits for her name to replay

The Wall

~ abykittiwakewrites ~ Leave a comment

vaulted
sweet reverie beyond walls so high
i Pierce the heavens yet not the top of that precipice
halted
steps burnt in ant-like lines become a bonfire at its foot
jump!
i dare not mock Majesty with triviality
though climb through seven layers
I’d dip in fatigue
unprepared
this brick
this wood
this cemented monstrosity
aye, I am but man
and death a door i cannot leap
though burst my hands in pleasing strikes
and pleading
yet
so quick thy hand did pass through

fog to thy touch
cobbled rock
how this trick of mist
which i twist
solid
contends a ghost
you’ve ever been