missing you

Insight Seven.

Posted on by Amber S Morse

There are words between us
that neither will ever say – deeply
rooted in an honesty that burns,
touched by the stars in wishes
set with memories and distance
in time. We’re dancing between
the silence, swallowing the words
every time they nestle on our lips
as though actions aren’t speaking
loudest, while we can pretend the
words aren’t there, even though we
both know what the other cannot
say; whispering to the moon every
night under the blanket of stars
covered in second chances that
will one day consume us both.

LV Letters – Five

Posted on by Amber S Morse

It was the way the ripples in
her eyes, shallow yet focused
made me dream; crossing the
waters and believing in second
chances past the horizon – still
moving forward against the
grains of the current of every
wish laying just outside of her
eyelashes, beating gently with
promises of possibilities and
an ounce of hope in thoughts,
believing in chances and love.

Forty-One

Posted on by Amber S Morse

I could have sworn to the right
side of heaven, you’d never put
me through this hell; forcing the
silence to deliver your goodbye
as you quiver inside memories
of us swearing we’d never say
such words, light at the touch
and too fragile to fall, as though
it was only another action left for
us mere mortals here on earth, too
confined in confrontation to bare
witness – so you can preach your
silences, I’ll still speak the fluid
language of love, meant only for
your ears, even if you can’t hear
me past your goodbyes left silent.

Runaway.

Posted on by Amber S Morse

If my words mean nothing
then why do you shed light
on them during the hours
following the break of the
moon – filling your thoughts
with serenades and sonnets
of the love that I have for you,
which you aren’t allowing to
grow; bending the edges of
the words into hardened and
misshapen truths as though
honesty is the reality you’re
running from, and I am the
keeper of twice painted lies.

The gamble.

Posted on by Amber S Morse

I played my final hand,
knowing the odds against
my favor, as all I needed
was the queen of hearts
nestled deeply behind the
blue print found in your
hand – as I waited patiently
for you to lay your cards on
the table, and yet instead of
taking all that was left of me,
you got up, silently walking
away, taking your cards and
my queen of heart with you.

Forty-Two.

Posted on by Amber S Morse

With the whistle of the winds
past the earliest hours of dawn,
where the trees are swaying soft
symphonies outside my window,
calling for my memories to come
out and play, I am strolling gently
through dreams half buried in the
past, lingering twice on shades of
blues with a soft touch of violets
lining the horizon, with collapsed
wishes parading down like rain –
half entranced by the voice of my
muse singing lullabies, I whistle
alongside in hopes of her return.

And so it goes…

Posted on by Amber S Morse

I had spent the summer
in false hope and delusion,
placing every effort in my
attempts to tame the wind,
believing once captured, I
could silence the storms,
rocking them gently with
sonnets and lullabies, only
to fail with every lash and
blow; but now it is autumn,
with only the promises of
leaves falling, granting me
new memories to tame, with
every whistle of the breezes.

So we burn…

Posted on by Amber S Morse

In a rush of swollen blazes,
spewing ashes of autumn and
charcoal, where the half burnt
breezes are being carried out
as though fragments bare no
harm, and memories are only
as good as the dreams in which
they are kept; with the roots of
flames burning blue in the light
of love and smoke hovering past
realms of suffocation, waiting
for life to distinguish the blazes –
as though indecision was just a
game, with all of us left burning.

In time.

Posted on by Amber S Morse

in the latest of the early hours
when the blue ink is bleeding
from my thoughts and dreams,
scribbling through scratches of
memories and words cast in the
idea of gold and longing, it is your
image twice believing in the sigh
forming on your lips after a gentle
kiss, with the echo of rain falling
as though it wasn’t just an ending,
a parting of two hearts still beating
in time to the other but no longer
leaning towards one another, as
though goodbye was just a word
not an action, as I was frantically
trying to recapture all my desires
before that final kiss into words to
keep you here, to bring you back,
as though I ever had a chance.

Dance With Me…

Posted on by Amber S Morse

just take my hand and let us
slow dance in the rain; swirling
between droplets and each other
around one in the morning, when
the night is innocent and quiet,
slowly creeping past insecurities
while warm at the touch of hand.
we’ll dance between the breezes,
making up lyrics as we go to the
tune of taking turns making each
other blush as we twirl and spin,
dipping in time to droplets; just
take my hand and help me fall
in love with the rain once again.