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| Topic: A love trauma | |
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I dreamed of a suitcase tag
you had writen on. Your sister treasured the trifle, like it was a love note. But you never packed a suitcase, or said goodbye, nor left a note. But you did write well. On repeat, I dream you are not dead. You mysteriously hid from me for years, to take a long breath and have a little space. Yet, I detect a wrongness. Your eyes play Russian Roulette, I stare into the twin barrels and know, only one dream in six gets them right. Did you leave me a strange gift? Not a lovenote, nor a suitcase tag, but those haunting night terrors where comfort is fast and fleeting. I would wake you and hold your shivering body. Those goosebumps, were feathers pulled one by one, leaving you wingless and ashamed. The few you left scattered on our bed, must of made a dreamcatcher. |
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Nice poem
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'Tis MOST delightful LadyWind.
Sadly, nothing brings the artist out of the human quite like the presence....or the absence....of their Muse. |
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nice poem
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'Tis MOST delightful LadyWind. Sadly, nothing brings the artist out of the human quite like the presence....or the absence....of their Muse. Oh my muse still flows. I don't post everything here.  Thank you for taking the time...
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Nice poem .
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nice poem
Thank you |
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I dreamed of a suitcase tag you had writen on. Your sister treasured the trifle, like it was a love note. But you never packed a suitcase, or said goodbye, nor left a note. But you did write well. On repeat, I dream you are not dead. You mysteriously hid from me for years, to take a long breath and have a little space. Yet, I detect a wrongness. Your eyes play Russian Roulette, I stare into the twin barrels and know, only one dream in six gets them right. Did you leave me a strange gift? Not a lovenote, nor a suitcase tag, but those haunting night terrors where comfort is fast and fleeting. I would wake you and hold your shivering body. Those goosebumps, were feathers pulled one by one, leaving you wingless and ashamed. The few you left scattered on our bed, I ought to make a dreamcatcher. A change of the last words
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Dear Ladywind, just in case you thought your bottles were unread, or fleetingly so... others before you sent them. Don't forget, I did not write this to you, he did...I could not possibly answer this with anything of mine...
How like a winter hath my absence been From Thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December's bareness everywhere. And yet this time remove'd was summertime, The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burthren of the prime, Like widow'd wombs after their lord's decrease: Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit; For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And thou away, the very birds are mute; Or if they sing, 'tiss with so dull a cheer That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near. Shakespeare 1609 Hey Ho Ladywind, how can you say you will never love again? You clearly do. Just make it up as you go along... |
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Dear Ladywind, just in case you thought your bottles were unread, or fleetingly so... others before you sent them. Don't forget, I did not write this to you, he did...I could not possibly answer this with anything of mine... How like a winter hath my absence been From Thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December's bareness everywhere. And yet this time remove'd was summertime, The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burthren of the prime, Like widow'd wombs after their lord's decrease: Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit; For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And thou away, the very birds are mute; Or if they sing, 'tiss with so dull a cheer That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near. Shakespeare 1609 Hey Ho Ladywind, how can you say you will never love again? You clearly do. Just make it up as you go along... Hey ho, I love my friends and family... does that count? That was so sweet and kind, you made me cry. |
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Yes that counts. Of course it does silly
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Yes that counts. Of course it does silly 
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N
 ICE
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Edited by
Unknow
on
Tue 09/28/21 04:40 AM
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wonderful poem ❤
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