Excerpts from books I’ll never write
In my chest
is a garden of wildflowers
that took over my lungs
long after they stilled.

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@ghost-dilf
Excerpts from books I’ll never write
In my chest
is a garden of wildflowers
that took over my lungs
long after they stilled.
Excerpts from books I’ll never write
What happens
to my bones
long after
the insects
have claimed my flesh
and the earth settles
above me.
are they forever hidden
or will they be given
to the stars to try again
I wish to feel your warmth
Your gentle fingertips on my skin.
You connected with me
In ways that i’ve only ever read about,
And I miss you.
My soul aches for yours my dear.
Excerpts from books I’ll never write.
If, for just a moment,
You saw me
Not my body.
If you saw the cosmos
In my skin,
And the ocean
In my eyes.
If you saw
The electricity
In my veins
And the roots
In my heart.
Would you have left me then?
Would you have loved me then?
Would you have realized that I too
Am alive?
Excerpts from books I’ll never write.
For the wind has stilled
The rattle of my bones
Echo through the silence.
I sit with my body in slow decay.
Why hasn’t anyone found me?
The things you’ve done
I am still afraid
that you’ll show up
even though I drove
states away
and never told you
where I live.
Every knock at that door
causes my heart
to cease movement in my chest.
What if’s will destroy you.
if you live
in a world of “What if’s”
You will destroy
who you are
and who you will become.
What if’s are dangerous.
It gives you a sense of hope
for something that doesn’t exist.
I have never felt so fond
Of the morning sun
As I do
After the darkest
Hours of my life
The willow
A flame so bright and charming.
his affection
burned bright in the eyes of the willow.
Her branches weeping for
she could not hold him.
That did not stop
the flame from dancing
his way up her spine.
Burning away her blooms
and smothering her in smoke,
The willow so sweet,
now charred remains
of her skin
and her roots
smoldering in ash and ember.
A love that never lasted
Have you known something
so definite that not even god
could say you’re wrong?
I have
I have known the august sun
warm against my skin.
The smell of the autumn rain
that sets in right before
the first drops of fall.
The crunch of the yellow leaves
that scatter the sidewalks unchallenged.
The honeyed breeze laced with the
last bloom of the season
before the frost sets in.
The comfort of warm tea
and cashmere sweaters.
I know it’s not much, but I’ve know these things as a person.
A person made of amber
Encasing my heart
while it still beats.
The sky weeps at their artistry.
The sun is envious of them, for Icarus would
have fallen for them instead of the sun had he
watched them shine.
The oceans crash in quiet rage
for the green of the sea was stolen
for their eyes.
The birds sang for them
and the leaves swoon in their presence.
Their arms feel of freedom
and their lips taste of home.
Their eyes tell me stories
and their company is safe.
No god can persuade me
that what I have known is wrong.
Excerpts from books I’ll never write
I was born
in a war zone.
In desperate need
of an escape
I found a
war zone of my own.
something new
but painful nonetheless
Excerpts from books I’ll never write
For fear of falling,
I never learned to fly.
What does a migratory bird
do in the winter
when they never learned
to fly?
The city lights
Never looked the same
Without you
Excerpts from books I’ll never write
I’ll meet you at the rainbow bridge
Where I’ll watch over you from above
where my tail will always wag
and my legs work again.
I’ll meet you at the rainbow bridge.
Where I can see you again.
Where I can hear your voice again.
I’ll be playing in the fields of wildflowers
while I wait for you.
I’ll be waiting at the rainbow bridge.
Just like the pup I was when you took me home,
Thank you for loving me until my last breath.
Thank you for holding me while I said goodbye.
Thank you for being there for me in my last moments.
So I’ll be here, at the rainbow bridge
waiting for you to come home
(In loving memory of our Chloe girl. may you rest in peace.)
Excerpts from books I’ll never write
I wish to run away
but every time I go out
I feel the weight
of every car crash
I see
Excerpts from books I’ll never write
Our bodies of porcelain
Broken, exposing our dejected bones
Our lungs punctured with debris
And my heart seeps sadness
Excerpts from books I’ll never write
I live in the in between
I’m in between happy
and Sad.
Destruction
and Reparation.
Chaos
and Peace.
Love
And Hate.
I am in between Alive
and barely surviving