Water Like Fireworks

I’ve decided against answers

Rather sit crossed-legged

And laugh at my own laughter

– So I retract from questions

Never wonder why

Learned to count my blessings

 

(Hopesand)

 

Water Like Fireworks

Tingling triangles and tinkling harps

Nothing as soft, nothing is sharp

He has my wonder, has my fun, he has my heart

 

(Safesound)

 

Canopy of frost tipped bluebells

That top the spring scented hills

Tip toeing on piano tiles

There his son, there his bride

 

Water Like Fireworks

Tingling triangles and tinkling harps

Nothing as soft, nothing is sharp

He has my wonder, has my fun, he has my heart

(Hopesand)

 

Diamondis sprinkle

His heart strings never finkle

 

(Safesound)

 

Water Like Fireworks

Tingling triangles and tinkling harps

Nothing as soft, nothing is sharp

He has my wonder, has my fun, he has my heart

 

(Hopesand)

 

Wetlands (Diamondis sprinkle)

Waterlands (Heart strings never finkle)

Water Like Fireworks (Fly On)

Water Like Fireworks (Fly On)

Bursting Droplets

 

(Safesound)

Echo

The crystals shake in their chambers

Vibrations from my voice

I don’t care if this cliff

Gives

 

Aurora Borealis

Is nowhere to be seen

She has lost her sight

And mind

 

Patterns don’t exist

If love cannot breathe

Our love against the cold

I couldn’t win alone

 

We found hands to hold

Reaching in the dark

Paper hearts

Playing with fire

 

It’s just one more day

Not a lifetime

My spirit watch it sing

As it whistles through past times

 

A summer bursting with colour

Skyscrapers and blue quays

Death had never been duller

Then night stretched from under
(Northern Lights Erupt)

(Echo comes into effect)

 

We found hands to hold

Reaching in the dark

Paper hearts

Playing with fire

 

Every star

Every wish

Only you

 

We’d found hands to hold

Holding through the dark

I couldn’t fight off the cold, alone

One set of footprints in the snow

Paper hearts

Playing with fire

 

Ice-Knife

Tip,
Carve,
Cleaver.
Ice Knife.
Foal Heart.
Wicked swipe.
You pulled out
A piece of glacier.
Ice Knife. You pushed
This piece into my chest
Kept it there until I froze.
Held it there I turned cold. You.
Then you left me on this white cliff.
How can hugs so warm, lips so wet, be ice.
Louder – Break
What I think.
More? Deeper
Into the drink.
You don’t love me.
Your afflcition
Brought me
To the most
Beautiful, most
Devastating place
I have ever been.
You are my Weapon
Of Choice.

 

Snowdrop Angel

“…I don’t want to kill myself.”

I stood on the edge of Snowdrop Cliff. Everything was here. My past, my future, my body of now, my lifeline. Everything that has happened to me has covered the mountains in a snowy carpet which never leaves.

So far away from everything, this angel’s place… But I bring with me in my bones, all of the people I have loved. I feel their broken promises wearing me down.

It’s so hard. Life. I feel so many wars bruise my back, battles I fought against the people I love. If my heart could bleed. Words that haunt. Betrayals that split me from my spirit. So much loss. I could hold it here in my hand, pick up the snow, and out would shine a memory of mine. I could glimmer in it’s brilliance, my eyes prisms to it’s witness. But what is it worth?

This land of time and recollection all rolls with my soul. And my soul is a lonely soul. There are no intertwines or links, only sad ghosts of people who came and missed. And I have missed, too.

Looking over Snow city, far away, far beneath. Fairy lights in gingerbread houses, nobody about, the whispering of the snow lost to the gaps in the mountains. Over the city, over the snow, Arctic Lake cut through in the purest blue you will ever see, it’s thin scraping line mine in writing.

How can you leave if you truly love? If you wake up every morning in wonder and in awe? You can’t.

I do not want to fall from this cliff. I do not want to taint the snow red. Thinking of not wanting to but doing it makes me cry a little. The tears scrape my skin on their descent, drawing lines of blood. The lumpy head of the tear, and the lumpy head of the blood, both glide down my face. One feels like a kitten slit, the other like a warm raindrop.

And the people here are made of paper. The colder it gets, the deeper their edges cut and I can’t help but love and fear them.

Let me go in peace. Why do I have to relish in this place, I can feel the frost stiffen my thoughts and means of motion. Why can’t letting go be so much easier than this. Snowdrop Cliff is made for two people, not one. It’s as sad as I am to see that I have come alone tonight with nothing but loss in my life. I came back tonight aged with so many years. Years I did not need nor desire but have been aged with anyways. What is it worth?

I found my heart, gave it away, smashed it up and threw it out. Talk to me now of being weak.

Write me a new lullaby.

I can’t let you go.

But I can let myself go.

And don’t you know, I’ve lost so much in life, that everytime I lose myself, I find myself anew. No more.

“I don’t want to die” I cried. So, I covered my eyes, and let fall

Abandoner

When I left you, you were young

But now you’re older you’ll –

Know when to run, and when to love

(Careless laughter),

Probably end up, with a happy ever after

You’re now so wise, in disguise

And you won’t ever again be tricked. By. Lies

~

Feel your father at your side

Couldn’t be there again this time

Learn what I meant

Learn why I left

I can’t let. You. Stay. Young.

~

It wasn’t easy, letting you go

But you need to respect that

you’ll never know, my sorrow

(Dad’s disaster)

The harder you look, harder the answer

I gave you life, I gave you strife

Now repay me with with your future life

~

Feel your father at your side

Couldn’t be there again this time

Learn what I meant

Learn why I left

I can’t let. You Stay-

BURN

Shape life over a dozen times

Move right, only to,wards light –

Freedom kind and freedom wise

Be shy and be alight

Run faster than the night

Love harder than you fight

Stop. Asking. Why.

 

‘An Envelope Popped Through The Door’ Prompt

She hand-closed the door softly behind her, to keep it from falling to pieces. She let her strict ponytail loose. She took a well earned deep breath and her insides were treated with the taste of fresh-on-old mildew. “Home”, she whispered. She waltzed then through the dainty hallway, allowing her finger to trace along the many semi-circular hanging tears of wallpaper, like child-drawn waves. There remained only few doors in this framed rubble of a building, and none that separated the hallway from the kitchen. She descended from the pale beige glow of the hall into the skeleton light.

Everything in this home was devastated, but she kept it neat. Closed drawers, levelled and stacked books.. She was an organised woman, now that she had the freedom to be. What satisfied her about this place was her feeling of control. She would leave for weeks to come back and find everything as only a dustier form of its previous self. She felt powerful, finally safe in her own clay-stained hands. It was a rather new feeling of assurance, something she had not been familiar with most of her life. With no mother, she was hastily forced to be wed when she was still a girl.. to a man much stronger than her. And older, too.

But that was past her now. She gazed through the window above the sink, into an abyss of ash. For miles, there was nothing salvageable, and the rest was swept from an orange drift of wind, seemingly like a sandstorm, that hid the rest of the world. She was grateful for whichever bomb that had hit this place, leaving a piles of embers, and erratic poles dotted around. But she most loved that she could feel the mush of compressed ash as she walked.

On the sill. A dead spider. She gasped. It’s legs crooked in agony. She examined closer. It’s face was smushed, as if from weight. It reminded her of him, how he would kill everything in his house, break objects, leave things open and messy but never allow her to clean. Or to leave. She was to rot, as he trumped all over, just to see her squirm.

She cupped the spider, and dropped him into the sink and ran the tap. Brown water came and washed the spider down. Gone. Forever. She wiped the sill clean. Her brief moment of fear had been cleared. She was alone here, in control here, and safe here.

She began her ritual of cleaning. She had brought a purse full of Wypall wipes and a multitude of business-marketed cleaning sprays. She wiped the damaged counters of the kitchen, the frames with no doors, the old mahogany counter-piece in the hall, all along the bannister, up the stairs…

A noise. Right as she ascended the final step. As of a knock. On the door. Behind her. But there was nobody there. She could see through the frosted glass in the middle of the door. Nothing. She gave a plain smile. All but the sound of a footstep.

And so she carried on her cleaning upstairs, and she made everything in every room glean. Her last mission, was to batter the dust of the duvet in the only bedroom. And so she grabbed two corners of it, and slid it off the bed. And screamed.

On the bed. A stain. An ink stain. A lidless pen lay leaked. Permanent black. Her first thought was not to question its presence but to get rid of it. She went to rub at it with her wipe but the ink licked it. And stuck. She dropped it then, and backed away in horror. She had now realised. Someone had been here. Recently. They had stained the bed and killed a spider.

She ran. Down the stairs. Not safe anymore. But there. The frosted glass was no longer clear. 

A shadow. Something. With a top hat. Mad hair underneath. At the door.

“It’s not real…” Perhaps just a gathering of dark dust. It was quite probable. The wind could’ve placed it. She stood frozen on the second bottom stair for minutes, her heart rate slowly averaging as the something showed no form of life. It wasn’t real. She was not in danger, or in the presence of something else. She gave another plain smile. Just a trick of nature. She slumped down the last step.

An envelope popped through the door.