High on feelings

 

I got

too high

on feelings,

I let them

grip me tight,

holding my hand

showing ways

to new lands

where sunbeam

screams bleed

into starburst nights.

I let my thoughts climb

the ladder of light

to a place unseen by man,

and I realised

that my dreams were empty.

Not real.

Just plasticine memories

of what I wished to feel.

 

The love I held inside

was a tide that wanted

to wash upon your shore,

but the plasticine moulded

cliffsides stopped

any dreams from

touching the sand,

and dreams subside

when the lightness of a hand

is not the lighthouse of hope

that I once held it for.

 

I got so

high on a dream

that I stopped breathing.

I just held every feeling inside,

and let them churn through

every nerve and sinew.

Screaming.

When in truth I should have

just opened my silent waters to you.

Let my thoughts flow

like waves of truth.

 

But I knew,

as I know,

that my love

has nowhere to go.

As your tide is flowing

on another shoreline,

so, my inquisitive mind

questions,

is this just one outcome

in an ocean of storylines?

And on some beach

in a time yet defined

do the waves of love

breach the pliable walls of mine?

Whispers on the wind

 

My whispered

I love you's

won't ever

change a thing,

but I spin them

to the air

like samara seeds,

helicopter melodies.

 

For truth is

better than a lie,

even if

it is only

heard on

a star

many

miles away.

 

I let them sit

on the edge

of my lips

and on the

smeared ink

of my page,

not to make

a case for myself,

but for them

to be held

for what they are.

 

Truth born under

a midnight star.

 

My whispered sighs,

those goodbyes

that lasted too long,

the kisses in your eyes,

where I longed to belong.

The smiles that sat upon

beauty itself, the hair that

I spun a thousand stories on.

The arms you held around me.

The warmth inherent in you.

The songs that waltzed through

every danced footstep.

My I love you's

won’t ever change a thing

but they speak truth

and I only whisper them for you.

 

I let them sit

delicately melting into my page

like ice on a hot summer day.

I let them play in the margins,

I let them spin yarns of longing,

I let them explore galaxies

forming from stars reborn,

like snowflake smiles

upon a midnight sky.