You have my word

One word can change your life.

Tag: dreams

Fall asleep in the airwaves

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I don’t know if she’ll wake up. I keep my lips close to hers so she can take my air if hers is stolen. She takes my breath away. I give it freely to make space for the place she deserves in my chest.

Her chest heaves with the creaks of years weighted under worlds and wars. She has conquered them all. I lie next to her and wonder, at what cost? How many lives has she lost to find her way home – to sleep in this bed.

Rest now sweet warrior. Rest in peace but not in death. Let the armies carry your guns. Let the children pick flowers for your hair from branches higher than they can reach. Let other mothers lift up your hands. Let me kiss the top of your head.

You are one with my breath. I will watch over, walk with you. Will you let me catch you if you lose your ground? Let me hold you in the grip of your groans while the sky breathes heavy in the dark?

Do not go gentle into those empty lies

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Please stop coming to me in my dreams. Please stop curling up defenseless with me while I’m asleep. Please stop filling me with your memories. Please. I can still feel you. Move. Please.

I’ve moved forward; I’ve moved on. I’ve moved so you wouldn’t find me standing still. I have spent all this time being unfrozen, melted to stay away from you. Running. Running water. Free flow. Free. Free. You freeze me. Hard.

I have found value in soft, smooth strength. Slow. Not stuck fast. Slow down, baby, and find yourself. Find your fears in your own night’s sleep. Befriend them – know them and you will know yourself.

Dreams rest between terror’s teeth. Get up close. Tremble with its breath on your neck. Stand up straight. Hold your head high. Do not go gentle into the lies you’ve become comfortable telling yourself. You are done with these, love.

There is nothing left for you in those lies – there is no you left in those lies. Life. The simplest adjustment and you’ll come into so much… more… without me. And that is what is best.

You belong to you. I belong to myself and my own dreams and sleep and peace, and you do not need me. It’s okay.

For the first time I don’t feel guilty for you walking away. I’ve drowned my doubts in those dreams. I am enough without your memories.

I wish you well. Now sleep.

Dreams and beasts burning hotter than the stars

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She is alone. This has been her fear all along. It is dusk on an open road and mountains and unmoving turbines and the moon.

There are more miles between here and there than she cares to admit. She won’t admit anything. The abandonment. The inadequacy. The wedding that shouldn’t have been. The affair. The family. The abuse. The divorce. The abandonment. The abandonment. The child in her arms that isn’t hers.

There are many beasts that walk these streets – bigger and burning hotter than the stars. The scars on her hands show how busy broken messy busy broken she has kept herself. She has kept herself. To herself. Toward herself. Away from herself. Abandonment. Tired. So tired.

She is alone. Alive but alone and what is living when you can’t hear another heart beating?

I am good with my hands; you are good with my heart

A love letter of lost love:

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My darling,

I know you love my writing but it’s easy to hide behind words that sound beautiful and it’s easy to draw meaning from words where meaning wasn’t meant. What I’m trying to say is… today I am simply going to say what I mean and if it happens to sound beautiful, then so be it.

I know. though, that nothing I write will ever be as beautiful as you. I could use the most sophisticated, glamorous, superfluous words that exist… No possible combination of human sounds could ever be as glorious as the sound your silhouette makes when I close my eyes. No poem will ever be as perfect as your lips, nor the darkest tale reflect even a fraction of the depth of your eyes and of your soul.

Your voice has a ring to it, and it calls me all the time. Grace is the sound you make when you talk. You are only gentle and guiding. Regal, you are, gorgeous.

I know I am good with my hands; I know you are good with my heart. I know there is dust in my lungs and sometimes I lose my mind trying to fight out of the fog.

So I will always bury myself into your chest, and lose myself between your every breath and you’ll be the only one to find me. I fear that if anyone else should find me first they would try and uproot me from where I’ve planted myself between your ribs. Don’t let me go. Do not let them know I am safe with you here. Leave only a breath of a fingerprint on the atmosphere.

You are safe. You are splendid. You are like nothing else I have ever wanted.

I was always afraid I would never fall in love. It’s not the kind of thing you can explain properly if you’ve never felt it. Actually … I’m not sure if it’s explainable even after it’s been felt.

See, falling in love is perhaps an experience or moment shaped simply by everyone’s own interpretation of what it’s meant to be. We’re thousands of years into existence and we’re still writing about it. Love. It is massive. It is immeasurable. It is infinite. So it begs to be said that when you say you love me… I still wonder where I’m going to find space to put it all because I am small… I am so small, my darling, and you love so big.

I’ll make the next part quick, but it felt like a whirlpool. Maybe that’s why I dream of water sometimes – there was so much all of not enough everywhere you and I couldn’t swim quick enough to come up for air before swallowing water and there’s always a lot of coughing and spluttering and gasping after that… We are breathing together now, but back then…

I tried to stay away for a while, or at least until… the moment they told me I couldn’t have you, you were all I wanted; the moment they told me you couldn’t hold me, you were all I needed close; the moment they told me I had to rise above you, was the moment I fell in love with you. I’ve fallen for you so many times I’ve forgotten how it feels to stand on my own two feet.

And I know now what they mean when they say, you have to be cruel to be kind. Love is kind, but it also hurts like a bitch. And it leaves burns and it bleeds and there are scars and gravel-filled knees and broken bones and perhaps the greater the injury, the greater the depth of love because no one falls that hard and gets up without a scratch.

And counting everything in our wake – not a moment spared, I would not have had it any other way. I love you. I love you every bump and scratch and scab. I love you every plaster cast and brain scan. I love you the messy and weak. I love you healthy. I love you strong and wild and free. I love you mending and bandaged and laughing. You are everything that no one else could ever be for me.

You have given meaning to thousands of songs I’d always heard but never understood. And I want no other. Only you. I do. I do. I do.

I love you.