~Unconvinced~

shiv

I think to myself: I must be happy,
I can't write any decent poetry.

My artsy friends admit they miss the outpourings
of crash-and-burn creativity,
but they're glad I'm doing better, domestically.
In so far as that goes,
they hope they never hear from me.

And underneath the blue cushion of oblivion
In endless fascination
I ponder your particular minutiae again:
The softness of your hair after a shower;
Your perpetual procrastination;
How you're caught between could've beens...

What is it that cements our connection exactly?

Because my fingers do not delve deep
Into your heart anymore,
They are still slightly singeing
From the discarded warning.

Instead they cautiously stroke your suffering,
Terrified there is a tiny mirror being held up
Between our mutual torment
We are not seeing.

So I sit silent once again, complacent beside you
on the caved-in couch while you interact elsewhere.
And we watch different boxes of light
Fight to captivate our attention,
Transfixed beyond the dust colonies and dirty delph

Are we waiting for the nightly intersection to begin?

This time it is sweet and close and full of heart-stoppers like
"You are my favourite."
Then a jar is filled and I am walked and put to bed
Like a well-loved child.
My mind on the cusp of drowsy contentedness,
escape from another wretched day at last,
You slip out of the room back to your diversion.

This is when she creeps out from underneath her perch
inside my subsconsciousness, frowns at the beginnings
of nocturnal bliss and simply waits.

Unleashing sly, sweet whispers:
If only you could write yourself out of this mess,
Where would you go next?
You could leave your life blank, blinking behind you
And start your story afresh.

BEAT

Shiv,
this piece has reminded me of how I miss your posts.
Absolutley brilliant.
If I havnt said it before, you really need to think about publication.
If you havnt had your work published and you are interested PM me...I have an idea in the works that could be of some interest to you.

solas

and there you have it..
whats more to be said
no more nightly kisses
or filled pages to be read

like a child outgrown her parents
memories are all that remain
maybe a christmas card to remember not all was in vain.

I don't need my parents anymore, but I wonder do they need me.

MojoMaker

Stunning Shiv, stunning.

goin'_to_the_PS

love it

shiv

Thanks guys, for all the kind words, they really make my day!!