Sunday, April 17, 2011

The remains of a heart

What is this blackened thing, that once was a heart?
What pain could have possibly twisted it thus?
I have seen wounded hearts, but this...
... this heart is just mere shreds of black,
like the charcoal remains of burnt paper.
So ugly now that no one can get close.
So sharp.
So very black.
And hollow.
What could possibly have twisted it thus?
Oh.
It was love.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Rainbows

I want to share my rainbows.
I want to dance.
I want to sing, but only softly, so only you can hear.
I want to splash through the waves.
I want to watch the sunset, and the stars, and the moon, and the sunrise again
I want to sleep on the beach
I want to jump and run and play

I want to share my rainbows...
... with you