[x]

Boy's EyesI remember the speckles on the wall quite clearly.
My eyes
focused on them, the sounds
of bare feet striking the tile
and high-pitched
voices.
I trace triangles in the cracks,
slide my knee pads on.
(I need
the
protection.)

I cannot look up.
The second I turn away from this corner,
My eyes become a boy's eyes.
Is
something
wrong
with
me?
All I can see
is the curve
of her shoulders
and her long
legs
in h

Asking Permission Fire is a strange thing.

I felt it twist inside of me
and pull the strings of a
half-concealed desperation.
I never thought I would end
up starving once more. Perhaps
it's a strange pyromania, the air
that composes my soul makes
your fire spring to life.

I am on the concrete
begging
for
another chance.

Another chance at London rain.
A chance at the fire I once thought
belonged to me,
to live completely,
burst through the crystalline cage that
holds me tight.

Ca

Two AngelsClouded eyes.
Her innocent anesthesia. Her
cruel words.
Her cut. Her caramel hair,
tumbling down her back. The last
I saw of her as she walked away.
Left me off guard.
A topaz heart rebuilt
by a chance. Her dark flash
against my lightness. Her
pull away from a safe haven.
Her breaking and rebuilding. As
I whispered I never, I can't,
I will
under the hot lights.

ConsumedYou gave me a waterfall.

Pouring across my shoulders
over my waist
it seems to wash away
my imperfections.

Maybe that's just because
it made
you look
at me
with those
eyes.

A plaything.

I don't understand you. I still
throw myself into the
waterfall and hope
I stay above the surface.
Let it tumble over me.

I only pull my walls up
higher when you're around
me, I don't want you to see
who
I
am.
But this

Sea EyesWhere the light touches us, the wind
sways me gently, and I am content
to roll alongside it.

There's nothing so simple as loving her,
in a sea-eyed silence between
one word and another.

World, I am not so easily caged.

The Best ThingI saw you with
a half-drawn cigarette
between those vintage fingers.

Who did you lie to? It wasn't me, I wasn't there.

I'm sure you
keep your old lace dresses locked up,
pearls and ribbons and smoke.

It doesn't matter, I wasn't there.

Those words weren't yours. I know,
I've heard them before. That meant something
to me before it meant something
to you. And you laugh and you tap
your ribbon-red, ash lips
and you say,

I could say the same.

And I blink my lacquered eyes. I whisper with vulpine pleasure,

You're killing yourself, you know.

But I lie, I lie,
You're killing me too.

You AreI am settled. My heartbeat
is in my fingertips.

I take a deep breath,
the air is sweet, and
stifles the taste
of fear.

Look at me again.
You are a closed
door, and I've tried every
key I could find.
How do you live like that?

I am trying to keep
the memories
within my eyes, but they
slide across my
eyelashes and fall onto
my hands.

I am not
so simple.
And some puzzle pieces
refuse to fit together

TryI've never bothered
listening to people who
tell me to be careful about
what I wish for.
I've never been
careful about wishing
for you, and maybe
that's part of my problem.

Don't think I never saw this
coming.
I always knew you
were going to
break
my
heart,
but hey, that's
what makes us
who we are.

I've been so busy
twirling all of your little
touches around my fingertips
and wishing words
that were probably
meant for someone
prettier
or
smarter
or
stronger
were meant for me, that
maybe I didn't really bother trying.

Maybe that's all it would take.

It's easier to say I had no
choice, easier to say
I didn't t

Mocha RushThe glitter falls down from
      the
          top
      of
          the
      spiral
          staircase,
and I turn my face up to the setting sun.
I almost forgot what winter
meant, tracing maps in her malachite eyes.
      I lose myself in giggles as I take
another sip of the mocha,
and wink over the brim.

I am an actress.

I stand outside too long,
becau

Letting go of IncenseI fell from a zipline when I was young. I don't know from how high, and there's a chance that if I saw it now I would have a laugh about it - what is an incredible height to an eight-year-old dims somewhat to one who is approaching seventeen. I won't forget that feeling, that falling, as if some vital piece of myself was suspended in the air, grabbing for it as I hit the ground so hard the idea of breathing suddenly became a novelty.

I didn't think I would have to feel that again.

I saw something.

Summer came as hard and fast as a slap in the face, sixteen spitting me out into a world that I liked to think wasn't ready for me. It was, of c

ChampagneI had a dream I pushed you away.
So strange, my thoughts would
put you back to how you were,
the summer I blushed against
my will. So strange, my soul
would turn her head and deny
you. I don't blame her, I don't
blame myself. Perhaps it was
the fear that drew me in, no
rush like terror to excite me.

You are not so much lost as you are vanished, I could
find you if I wanted to, but I much prefer
to choose otherwise. I am drugged
by the winter air, but I know better.
Summer doesn't mean life,
not now. It's not my fault.

You were like drowning in champagne.
I'll take none of it back.

StopNo chance.
I pull my gaze away from the window.
Gray on paper,
but the words won't come.

Seems like I've said it all a thousand times.
I've given this heartbeat
plenty of chances to whisper
the truth to the pen
to the paper
to the notes
to the keys
but the words won't come.

Thoughts aren't always enough.
Sometimes they're just
absentminded
swirls in the margins.
Poetry swiftly becomes melody,
jealousy-love-eyes-breathe-darkness
Ink.
And they all whisper
stop, stop.
She knows.

And I whisper back,
no, she doesn't.

No chance.
I can feel the

Even MeYour words still echo in my ears as I slam the door behind me.

I've packed my bags again, left
the house behind, ran from your
cold blue eyes. Ran from the woman
I might have grown up to be.

Your God held my hand and took me
to a staircase, told me he loves
everyone, even me. Your God touched
my heart and told me I would
be fine. Your God gave me love,
        courage,
              peace of mind.

The sobs wrench
themselves from
my soul
as I fall
      to the ground again,
you can see t

Drenched in InkRationality.
Counting at last,
three
    steps
        at a
           time.
Simplicity, a feeling
washing over me.
So easily forgotten,
so
small.
         Chalk on the sidewalk
Taken tomorrow by the rain.
Wrap me up in yards
of silk and drench me
in ink.
   Lucky thing my
       legs know how to move.
They count on their own,
three
    steps

Butterfly Inkshe writes her words in ink or dust from butterflies
as she dances her fingers around them
letting them in the sky, to freely flow
in the green hills and fields, to grow

escaping onto magic, beating slowly their wings
they seem to be golden, but they are not
they are far more precious in their glow
treasures and secrets that only faes must know

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A Mist of Raindrops Erasers line my bedroom floor,
confessions I painted once are gone.

Your swing-set eyes and scarlet ropes
all fell - down, and down, and down - and those
silk ankles are stained with forgetfulness
and apologies that I quietly move
to the side,

to litter the tabletops with their passing.

Spotlights called you away
before I could force the rhymes
into a single stumbling sentence.

I touch a doorknob rather than answer.

Words whispered - that I now
understand - stack themselves
neatly before my shimmer-bright
memories.
Liar.

Until I Open My EyesFingertips stretched out. On the edge. I want to jump.

I can taste it. Touch it
I'm already there.
(I'm still here.)
And you're waiting. Somewhere.

Spent nights up. Pacing. Insomnia. Dreams
remind me that when I wake
you'll be gone. Writing your name as if
it will make you appear. And stop
the
aching.

As if knowing can save me, as if
a couple hundred miles is different
than a couple thousand.

I am pounding on glass. Let me out,
someone

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Summer Smoke

by ~roxilove10, Jan 18, 2012, 4:58:17 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Shimmer.
I am, every
               breath counted.
      Tapping time on the
   calendar like a waltz in
Wednesdays.
           Winter light still glows
           in her eyes, but
           summer maker her
           truly shine.

She is spinning in the
incense smoke and I
am wondering, living in
a gap between you and me.

She said I'd know an
angel if I saw one.
    I would fall to my knees in
    awe, fire and light,
    some celestial warrior,
And I see it,
            there,
in the summer smoke,
      bright,
living only one day a week.
Summer seems so short
counted in days
I can see
your smile.

Seconds slide by me and vanish into
the incense smoke, falling into blue
fabric and twisting into the hammock twine.
I,
Without,
You,
Still waiting,
                  I am still alone,
          though loved, why
       am I counting
    time like a
waltz in Wednesdays?

Summer Smokeby ~roxilove10

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

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=DailyLitDeviations Feb 22, 2012

Your wonderful literary work has been chosen to be featured by DailyLitDeviations and has been selected as our “Pick of the Day”. It is featured in a news article here: [link] and on our main page.

Keep writing and keep creating.

~roxilove10 Feb 23, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Oh my goodness! Thank you so much!

=DailyLitDeviations Feb 23, 2012

You are quite welcome!

~InTheStarryNightSky Feb 5, 2012

A lovely piece. Beautiful imagery, wonderful flow. Great job.

~roxilove10 Feb 5, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you so much!

~InTheStarryNightSky Feb 5, 2012

You're welcome.

~Avallynh Feb 3, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

^{beautiful, beautiful imagery -- delirious if it weren't so carefully gentle.

Summer seems so short
counted in days
I can see
your smile.
-- my absolute favourite bit. so very striking.}

~roxilove10 Feb 3, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Oh, thank you so much! That means a lot

`dreamsinstatic Feb 3, 2012 Professional Writer

Your fantastic work has been featured in Friday Night Features

~roxilove10 Feb 3, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Oh, thank you so much! I'm flattered!

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Summer Smoke

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