I saw December in your eyes,
frost at the edges with a warmth
fulfilling promises of a firelight
romance building at your core –
with dreams and memories of us
creating visions of a wonderland
of truth and love, you asked me
to be yours with a hopeful desire
I already was; and I always was.
With a simple yes, we set ablaze
a love jealous only of the sun and
moon, circling hearts and writing
sonnets in the snow; we were us
again, and December was ours
I crashed into sleep last night,
tumbling down a nightmare of
a rabbit hole, where love was
obsolete and solace was sought
after like a sacred form of drug,
mythical and scarce, as though
I wasn’t accustomed to comfort
inside my lover’s arms- I broke
by the minute, reaching out for
an arm to hold, only continuing
to fall further in a delusional and
obscure hell, where I was both a
ringmaster and victim, bound by
my subconscious, searching for
the remains of my piloted dream.
In the depths of silence
flowing against rhythms
of loss and love, without
your touch to help guide,
I am havoc into myself;
building barriers to cage
my own heart as though
I am not a carefree soul,
limited only to paper and
blue inked pen – but that’s
not us darling, together we
are rain falling and songs
playing on vinyl, creating
our own rhythms of love
to play against the silence
even if only we can hear.
Storylines in Verse 