Letters To Freddie: 07

In sickness?I wasn’t suffocating. But when silence became a third person in our already trying time, I couldn’t wait to open the window. “How are you?”I can’t say this, your eyes said so. Freddie, haven’t I always been ill? Because you found me that way or I was born with it, it was more acceptable?Continue reading “Letters To Freddie: 07”

Letters To Freddie: 10

Hey, not so long ago you were confident in loneliness baring all the brunt,but I see you’re tan now;was your loneliness not thick skinned as you thought? Your lips are all parched, so nourish leaves them tooand you’ve lied to yourself subliminally;that your senses are confused at the stateyour mouth is in,all dried up youContinue reading “Letters To Freddie: 10”

Taming The Unheard.

It is untainted,my hand gravitates towardsbut it’s held immobile by my glass lifecourageous yet shrinksfrom the curiosity of my extended hand. When I dreamt of simplicity? It was a frame to the scale of, My husband’s second personalityliving in our basement,alongside unfinished sketchesand hand down toysour child would’ve taken tobring-your-child exhibitions, But the frame isContinue reading “Taming The Unheard.”

Subtlety

From the sun’s introductionI found a windowblank spot to saywhere I could nestle my desiresand let them meet my demons Because day fed those desirestoo much sight, they startedto drift to land I couldn’t tame them at. While all I wantedfor them to remain unknowingof many senses sunlightcould introduce them to. I portray a simpleContinue reading “Subtlety”

I Can’t See Past.

Listening becomesoverly exerting,overrated…when we’re both going to say“I knew you would say that.” I’m a spiteful being. How I’ll greet you,rests solemnly on howyour eyes will follow me. And this world let’s beauty lead,with this many flowers cowerwhereas I’m such a flower;delicate to touchyet yearn for my handmade vase. What it comes down to, EatingContinue reading “I Can’t See Past.”

Midst Freddie VI: Last Dip.

Freddie, writing is my languageIf words coming out my mouthare unsatisfactorygive me pen and paperThere you’ll know my honesty. Now in my rage,I will tare the paperinto million others. …bring me forthfirst page that everlet my hand succumb tothe seduction of giving myunregistered thoughts acountry to live in. I don’t know how to face youContinue reading “Midst Freddie VI: Last Dip.”