Could be Fatal

Floating, softly through the air
They oft inspire serenity
beautiful colors, no heavy cares
Still, I don't like them inside of me
lightly tumbling
silk wings tickling
fluttering against the walls
my tummy rumbles and clenches against the darkness
my heart churns, beating rapidly
my soul swarms 'round,
hoping for the rescue
but sweet is still the sound
of your voice in my ear and your kiss on my lips
and everything you do
is perfection
adoration, settling in
but I can't take it any longer
I shall burst with happy light
the joy will shout from 'side my heart
my soul can't take more happiness
without you to help support me
so come, my love, stand near and stay
before these butterflies destroy me

Souls

The world reflects the beauty of the eyes which behold it
The sun reflects the light of one who gazes long
art reflects the minds of the happy observer

So tell me,
what are you leaving behind?

Letters Unsent

Saved in a box
for only my eyes
all I've ever wanted or needed
things to be said
I was unable to say
When it was just you and I
sometimes, it was just me
without a listening ear
I wrote endlessly
on scraps and pieces
saved them all
in envelopes
to be sent home
notes to you
letters too
how I felt;
what I needed to say;
what you needed to hear;
all wrapped up in letters
sealed
addressed
stamped
and stored
letters, to you
letters unsent

a lack of height

I know you try
I know you care
I know you want to help me out
You wish you could be
everything for me
my all, my always, always there

You think you do
but you don't think much
and though you try e'ry day
I don't oft say
Good job, well done, I'm understood

I want you to,
I wish so bad
that we could just connect
but if not with you,
than no one else

for you surely know me best
will I ever be
eye to eye, easy to see?

Or will my view forever be
a trying shirt?
and yours, some hair,
fine, but hardly there.

I suppose I need to get used to it now
It will never get much better
Dear paper, you are my truest friend
and we must only become closer
for there is no one else on earth like me
and it's silence that I fear

a silent conversation

With myself.

So much to say and no one to say it to
one of the dangers of thinking too much
you think someone must care
but who? and where?

left alone with my thoughts once again
this may change, someday, but when?
I do my best
think a little bit less
and choose only the best words to say
but I know without doubt,
I'll have to let them all out;
I still have so much to say

With whom do you share that which cannot be understood?
What, in the world, knows your secrets, even if you don't know their's back?
Or are you all alone with yours too?

Two starts, one sentence.

“She stared at the turf, as if she would answer no more questions; begged him to go.” Why did he have to interrogate her like that in front of everyone else? She missed one shot. Sure she was captain, but couldn’t he just be glad they won?  Still, Greg’s sharp voice wove its way through her sweaty hair, into her cold ears to stab at her soul. Always critical, of her at least, this was the Greg she knew. How stupid she was to think a few drinks one night in August would change any of that. This was not drinks in August. It was a soccer game. Soccer. That’s all she ever was to him. All it ever will be.

She looked straight ahead and gave a slight nod, then turned towards the locker rooms, fighting to keep the frustration out of her step as he continued his tirade. They had won, and she was captain, and this was soccer. Game face. Get it back on, Kaylee, get it back on.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“She stared at the turf, as if she would answer no more questions; begged him to go.” She no longer wanted to be there, on the edge of the grand lawn, with this ridiculous man. Sir Ellingsworth had graciously offered his arm for an afternoon stroll through the gardens and Waltstone Castle received so few visitors, she happily accepted the invitation. Conversation was pleasant enough as they wandered the roses and hedges, getting to know each other, as intimately as etiquette would allow for a first walk together. But when they arrived on the terrace over looking the polo field, he had the nerve to kiss her, on the lips, without warning! What an audacious young man!

It had been several long moments since, and he had done nothing but pepper the air with accusations. Hadn’t she enjoyed it? Wasn’t he handsome enough? Wasn’t his family well enough off? Hadn’t he made his intentions perfectly clear?

‘This is what I get, for complaining for lack of excitement around here, an overly excitable gentleman What luck for such a splendid afternoon’ she thought to herself.

For English 284, Exercise 1 

Running with Scissors e.2

a postcard collage for my boyfriend (classified sticker added in editing for security) 

featuring Patty the Penguin

So many words
they just won't come out
trapped in my mind

forever

so many words
not enough time
I'll keep all these thoughts
they'll be always mine