Favourite Things

We were each other’s favourite thing

It was more than a lover’s fling

You held me close and stroked my hair

We were such a perfect pair

Although no labels

We were true

There could never be another you

I loved I loved 

You tried and tried

The day came for us to say goodbye

You wiped my tears away and sighed

I’ll see you soon

Just please don’t cry

I dare not say it

I just closed my eyes

I’ll love you till’ the day I die

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The Goddess and the Sailor Boy

The secrets of us were tucked between my ribs

With writings of love and loss and

inklings of passion, betrayal

The story of a goddess and a sailor boy

her palm pressed against the milky moon

How she tried to keep him close with incantations

But always knew he belonged to the waves of the sea

and there was no keeping him from it

The goddess was seasick but the sailor was free.

Calm before the Storm

 I think you were always waiting for me to slow down.  I was hyper, scattered, excitable, and everything was always in colour with me but you dreamt in beige and ivory. I was an unlit firework; gasoline just waiting for that spark to ignite. The quiet pause before the chaos. I learned early on that men do not want to love hurricane women. A storm is exciting for a night but it can tear down houses and people. A storm is a force and god help you if a hurricane woman will love you because it will be fierce and it will never be easy. I never blamed you for leaving though I threw witches curses and did not let you go quietly. I saw you two years later with a calm girl. A raindrop girl, delicate and iridescent; non-threatening. She was a gentle Sunday afternoon and you had made a home there. I saw how you were comfortable now. Your eyes met mine, but you turned away from me, quickly. Was I still too bright? Beauty festers in mad women and if you touched me it would blister your skin. The fierce women with tempest thunder hearts and men like you with perfectly matched socks and American dreams. Behind your white picket fence, I hope you remember those wild sunsets you spent with me.

The Blooms

 I bought myself flowers through sadness

Or sadness through flowers, I could not tell

but with the hope that their blooms would lift lift lift me up away from the dirt the rot the human disappointment.

I often dream of those spring walks with you when I would pluck flowers from the ground, sprinkling earth from its roots, velvet petals against my nose, my cheeks,

but my nails would dig into their stems, your flesh, as I clung to you both,

And you,

Always there with a smile and a no.

The Magic Women

I often see folklore tales in my dreams

Of sorceress women and waning witches

With ropes around their necks or flailing in black waters

They are always beautiful 

with night sky skin and milky white eyes

but the men who hunt them say 

Their beauty is threatening just like

The runes and healing stones that they clutch to their breasts

What do they know? Is always the question, 

a crystal ball, a palm reading, a fortune-tellers kiss,

Look what I see, they say in unison, a smile playing on their lips,

each with a single tarot card between their teeth.

The Wild Girls

The wild girls run

With Hellhound hearts

and pretty boys who did not stand a chance

Whiplash kisses

and mistakes they held like trophies

All the things you’d say to make them stay

The come-to-bed eyes, the bottles of gin, used matches

an Intoxication anomaly but

There is fire in you yet, your mother said,

Do you remember? That guilt you never wore again.

Yellow Hope

That little room with bright yellow walls

How we laughed our way through the winter and summer

 

I hope yellow paint will always remind you

of my sunshine smile

My outdoor inside voice

My head on your chest

I hope you look back and think of that year together as magic

a time where you felt true happiness

 

I hope you meet another girl with a wild soul too

I hope you will be kind when she finds you.

 

-Yellow is the brightest color of the visible spectrum, and it is the most noticeable of all colors by the human eye. It means happiness and optimism; it is the color of sun shining, or bright light and creativity. … It is the color of high energy, enthusiasm, hope, fun, and cheerfulness.

Hunter’s Moon

The October full moon came,

In autumn leaves

In death and chances,

A circle of milky white magic,

fluorescent cast,

against a starless black tablecloth

with Halloween next door

In grey fog and amongst orange pumpkins

Black ravens flocked,

I said my curses

I spoke my wishes,

The witches were out

and the

Black magic

White magic

spells

swirled through the air, thick and fast,

My October gift  to you.

Wildfire Love

And your name will pop up every blue moon as a warning mainly, remember him?

The friends who knew me then will say I loved you far too much, such a mistake they say, we are so happy you are in a better place.

Because there was love and then there was him.

But they do not know I am still right where you left. Eighteen, with bright wide eyes, my chaotic mind and wonky heart, still waiting for you to come back. I swear, this lifetime will pass in winters and summers, in life and death, and I will still love you. Years and decades will come and I will search for you in other people, I will see you in crowds, will swear I glimpsed your face for only a moment.

Because ours was a wildfire love.

It spread too quickly and before we could say slow down, we were engulfed,                    We were too caught up in each other,                                                                                        With each red and orange flame licked kiss bringing us to the precipice                              of our messed up teenage romance.

Because there was love and then there was us.

With Him

With you,

 

I didn’t write for a whole year Because I was so happy 

La la la In pretty dresses

My Sunday best

Your arms wrapped around me like a fuzzy cocoon

I didn’t want to wake up.

 

I wrap myself in blankets now

I traded dresses for trousers

I don’t wear much makeup anymore

I am starting to think it was all for you

 

Perhaps it’s all just a transaction in the end

 

But maybe now 

I will make my own cocoon 

And I will stop waking up at 3am  

wondering how a pillow replaced your chest.