Vampire thoughts

 

These vampire thoughts

have their fangs out,

and I’m rooted to the spot,

a frozen statue of hurt,

blinded by the headlights,

and the silent lullabies of lonely sighs.

For my heart can’t be crossed

with yours, and yet my neck

is so ripe. My blood sweet and warm.

 

I’d love you to sink your teeth in deep.

 

And my vampire thoughts

are not mirrored.

They can’t be seen

in the glimmer of sunshine.

The reflection I cast of me

invisible

to eyes I wish to see.

They flow like red wine,

dripping over my worn ground.

But to let them fly would

leave me hunted down,

for the love I wish for

is loved by another.

 

My vampire thoughts

stick in my neck,

pinpricks, bitten

regret, burrowed into skin.

If I’d only let on

how much you meant,

then would I still be here

deep in furrowed lament, smitten,

hiding from sunlight.

A monster by lonely moonlight.

Haunted by memories, unwritten

A solitary melody,

in an orchestral sky

Stories

 

As the summer sun folds herself

into the creases of the earth, the

crescent moon colludes with the

gothic canopy of stars, an awning of

swirling blues melding into the orange bloom

in mystical union. A majestic miracle of

cosmic momentum. A grand yawning

universal cathedral of space and time.

 

Twilight air swoons lovingly

across the station, lifting my gaze

in the heat haze tremble of anticipation.

The blistering heat dissipates, as the

whispering breeze gently blows in,

feeling magical against skin.

Easing the sunburnt concrete,

and lifting the litter away.

Clearing masks of yesterday.

To leave new storied pathways

for feet to tread. New stories for eyes to read.

 

The sky a burning fire set alight,

before simmering down, ashes

at the feet of the towering night.

A monument of time, aeons blink

in distant starlight. As praying eyes

whisper silently, to their moonlight guide.

A gentle hand held to kicking belly,

feeling life growing inside of them,

soon to arrive. A new story soon to write.

 

And I see her smile

as the sky answers her back

with a wink of light.

 

The fluorescent flaying of station light,

severs the view for a second or two,

before a shadow dances across the concrete,

a silhouette against the ancient silver moon

rushing past to find a seat on the number 44.

To find their way home soon.

A story of brief interludes,

a solitary view of life becoming a

shared story between two.

 

Laughter sings through the songs playing

in my ears, as the twilight-years trio arrive,

same time every night, silver hair glistening

diamond-like under fluorescent light.

A risqué joke and a flirtatious smile,

a glint in wise eyes, and as the bus arrives

they disappear into the night.

Stories of life lived to the heights.

 

And I glance back at the darkening sky.

A glint of starlight falls across my eyes.

A wish drifting like cosmic butterflies.

A spoken word left sat upon the seat beside.

Listening to the hum of traffic,

under the songs blaring through my head,

and I think, I’ll catch a later bus instead,

life is too beautiful to waste cooped up,

and I have more stories to write.

Beauty

 

If you could hear

the whispers in my head

you wouldn’t try to put me down,

for your words couldn’t ever be 

heard above their sound of

my own silent screams shouting,

louder than any words

you can dream to throw about.

 

And here's the thing,

I won't bow,

not even to

my own screaming.

 

I walk on and I stand proud,

because no matter how loud,

my own promises

only ever sing louder.

The ones I made when

at death’s door,

to always care for me,

to never cower,

and to share love

with those that

I believe are true.

 

I believe in beauty,

not the kind

that sits pretty for the eye,

but the kind that lives inside.

The sort that grows

like a flower blooming bright.

The sort that holds tight

through the storm

and still smiles

at every thunderstrike,

for the awesome sight

is dazzling their eyes.

 

And even on my darkest nights,

when I could cry

at the way the world hurts,

I still sing loud,

because there is

always beauty around.

And I want her to hear my voice

saying I see you, and I’m proud.