The key to the door hides within your depths.
You swear those fiery depths hold nothing; however, he knows the truth.
He ventured there once, found the key, and stormed through the door.
He opened your soul to the four winds, to love.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
The key to the door hides within your depths.
You swear those fiery depths hold nothing; however, he knows the truth.
He ventured there once, found the key, and stormed through the door.
He opened your soul to the four winds, to love.
Sorrow fills the air as you juggle the pots and pans of despair.
Cobwebs fill your mind, and the mood is sombre.
In amongst all the banging and clanging, you hear those words again.
“There’s no ice cream in the freezer“.
Ironing boards,
clotheslines,
and
the
perfection of
horizontal
lounge chair
Enthusiasts.
Fresh mint from a pot so old,
you hold as you think of her touch.
Fruity flesh of her pockets and holes
flare images in your mind.
Mesh your heart to hers in a love knot,
as you nibble on peppermint fudge.
Once polished weekly
with love and devotion,
I return to the
silky oak duchess.
In an old draw,
I found bits of jewellery and
pictures of us as kids.
Memories soaked
into the wood,
remind me of how
much I miss you.

Running to nowhere or
somewhere, she feels alone.
The moon is full tonight,
yet it shines strangely upon her sorrow.
Misunderstood nymph,
the woods give you so much love.
Once trees provide a seat,
she looks to the blood-red moon.
She is sadly no more.
Cowbells ring out
slow
on
green
hills for the herd.
Snow upon the
mountains
to feel crisp air.
Dream lake where
we sit
with
apple juice
and
cheese upon our plate.
Frozen words never
leave your lips,
for the chosen
do not require words.
Upon your lips, a song departs of love, sadness, and something saucy.
Beyond your eyes, your heart races like a clock sped up by broken time.
Steam from the engine of your heart erupts into the atmosphere forcefully.
Dreaming of the touch so filthy and frozen that only Caligula would understand.
Beaming with bottle bright blue and green hues, you think of the touch.
Themes of dark and dew-drenched hell and hurt turn you on so much.
The Dream theatre is so hot and humid.