Every word I write is love, knowledge of my soul's mind expressing truth.- Me

Monday, October 25, 2010

Lying With Lonely

She cries herself to sleep at night.

Knowing living this way just isn't right.

She knows she's not the girl she used to be-

But her soul cries out, wanting to be free.

Once upon a time she dreamed of a man coming to her rescue on a big white horse-

But that is just a fairy tale, of course.

All she ever wanted was an honorable man, someone strong-

Who would tell her his arms was where she belonged.

A man to kiss her, hug her, hold her tight-

Instead of making her feel lonely every night.

Her pillow, soaking wet with tears-

Only points out her heart's worst fears.

That man she dreamed of long ago-

Has since turned into someone she doesn't know.

The moon catches a tear as it shines through the glass-

Illuminating the hurts of the past.

She pulls the covers up over her heart-

Knowing that with her dreams she must part.

If only, if only to die from a broken heart-

Maybe then, in another life, she would get a brand new start.

Lying in bed with a stranger only makes you blue-

For all those dreams, that didn't come true.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Moonlit Mists

The bitterly cold wind whips her thick chestnut curls about her face.

Miniature streams of moisture course down her cheeks like lazy rivers.

To a stranger's eye, the tears would be described only as a cause of the cold wind blowing into her face.

No one would actually know they are tears of a broken heart.

Arms wrapped around herself-her only comfort, she cries for the loss her heart has endured.

Memories of him pass through her mind like a swirling fog- nothing seems clear anymore.

Looking down she notices the blades of grass shining like pillars of sparkling diamonds.

It only reminds her of the captivating light in his eyes she once saw.

The moon hanging full and low, almost touchable in its splendor, reaches out with its incandescent arms to caress her face.

But tonight, she is numb to the charm.

She'd been lying in bed, forcing her mind to stop thinking about him.

That's when the moon had shown through the curtains.

Under it's control, she had come outside to see what secrets the orb would reveal.

What an interesting thing- to be caught up in the moon's power.

Even the stars can't resist her- all vying for spots as close as they can get to her.

She shivers, her skin pale, eyes red-rimmed and puffy from lack of sleep.

Silently she curses her fickle heart for not being able to say goodbye.

Every night the moon beckons to her, awakening those memories she tries so hard to push down deep inside.

But like the sweeping fog of the early morning, his memory hangs about her.

In her mind's eye she can see him, but as soon as she reaches out, he disappears with a mocking laugh.

Sleep is pointless when the moon is always there to remind her that the moment her eyes close- there he'll be.

Always lurking in the moonlit mists of her dreams.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

The Lonely Night

The lonely sigh escapes her lips.

She's thankful it's only echoed by the darkness around her.

Once again she finds herself unable to sleep.

It's as if the moon holds some kind of power, keeping her awake as the rest of the world slumbers.

Loneliness covers her like a blanket, its tattered edges hanging at her feet.

Funny, how her mind can be so alive this time of night.

Not for the first time she wonders if she's the only one who suffers in this way.

It's almost as if her brain is allergic to the sun- becoming foggy and empty.

But as soon as the moon's light reaches her, covering her in its luminous glow, suddenly thoughts and emotions come rushing.

Almost like a mighty dam breaking, spilling its contents.

Stars come out one by one as a tear trails down her cheek.

Knowing you've wished on every star is depressing.

She always winds up hoping one more will appear that she hasn't wished on.

Remembering the happy time he was in her life before the bottom fell out makes her smile for a moment.

Why does friendship have to be so complicated?

Now the emptiness of his absence just makes her feel as if she's incomplete in some way.

Damn the luck of life moving on as if losing a friend was just a trivial matter of little consequence.

It seems saying "I'm sorry," is too much to ask.

Crickets serenade her as the midnight breeze flows through her hair.

Pushing all the old memories down, she locks them away in that small part of her heart.

Only the moonbeams have the power to unlock those memories.

Giving up, another sigh slips through because she knows tomorrow night will be the same.