My words are a direct reflection of what is being played out in my mind. For artistic purpose and dramatic effect I have duct-tapped the "edit" button…
Wrapped in another causebells and whistles banners and such I walk the walk and talk the talk but when the train drags me home and I'm walking down the sidewalk my pace slows and my heart races as I sink into the emptiness that is waiting for me 3rd floor walk up with glorious windows …
Three something A.M. bedroom window is lit up like fireworksMoon beams bounce about the room and the city skylineIs outlined and illuminated; sparks and promise soarWings of a mourning dove brush my left cheek with affectionWindowsill holds lovingly poetry books, photograph from the past,Seashells and sea glass; an adventure at the shore - so long …
Rings and things; glisten Touch of an angel - wings flutter Sweetest reverie; your image Crystal clear visual - you touch my cheek My heart still, skips a beat Just at the thought... ...just at the mere thought of you Left hand aches, occasionally Phantom pain, from time to time Like a flash flood or …
Vignettes strung together precious pearls of delight gently rest close to the heart filling in the quiet spaces with wisdom and while the smoke rises from distant passions and fire my dreams will never fade… memories unfold gingerly pages of cherished love letters tender stories are told a silent witness to one more sunset recall …
Fair winds following seas shouted from the deck and I do another lap around the proverbial widows walk Although these days it isn't so much a part of the grieving process as it is a reflection of my own personal ups and downs ...and it is a safe place to burn Time has no sense …
I walk the streets where you used to live; the city you thrived in The city you fell in love with; the city that set you free while at the same time crippling you - taking away any sense of coherency But, you, you were alright, you were a shining star; you were on fire …
Everyday is a live look 360 degree spin off flash Yesterday, last week, Three weeks and counting The fog is setting A full moon on the rise And in my brain Images begin to fade It's as if the imprint Didn't take hold Didn't etch its initials Three levels deep Scratched the surface, Drew blood, …
Deep breath in; now, blow, blow, blow Reluctance sits uncomfortably in the middle of my chest my heart beat skips and races like a petulant child and each day moves me one day further from the source of my discomfort, lack of intuition, sense of betrayal and loss I ponder less and less what was …
Safe haven low ceilings and bathroom so small... you couldn't change your mind in it 2nd floor reach up and touch the sky blue and gray clouds float by the scent of the ocean fills the air ...once my life my safe haven and now as I sit in this place of the unknown I …
Trilby Yates 