Crashing

It was careful

Consideration,

Blue faded,

Black lines

Bloomed,

And for the first time

In three years,

I could breathe.

Copyright © twotypesofink 2015

Complete

My final day has arrived
Despite the many words
That never found their voices,
Forever locked away,
Hidden from sight, from sound.
But, for the ones that worked
And fought their way to life,
I’ve acknowledged each syllable
Of your cries
And tried to comfort you.
Today was for life,
For living,
And I accomplished that.

Copyright © twotypesofink 2014

Pales

No matter the highs
And lows
Nothing compares to
Today, to
Christmas,
Surrounded by family,
No questions regarding
Where you belong,
Just the sense of belonging
Putting the past eleven months
Firmly behind a shadow,
Nothing and no one
Is more important
Than today, than
Christmas.

Copyright © twotypesofink 2014

Stockings

Hanging in a line they wait
For boxes and packages
Wrapped in unnoticed paper
And tied with bright bows
To arrive.
But come Christmas morning
And the tiny hands descend
Not a one will survive.

Copyright © twotypesofink 2014

Coal

Is Frosty, carefully sculpted
By liars,
Made in our image?
Black eyes of coal,
Showing one emotion
While a smile graces his face,
A contradiction we love,
And refuse to alter.

Copyright © twotypesofink 2014

Plans

I’ve given up
On planning
We always leave the chaos
Disheartened,
And unsuccessful.
But not this time,
With luck and chance
We found common ground.

Copyright © twotypesofink 2014

Loss of Comfort

I’m looking into your eyes
Hearing your words,
Your voice,
Yet, I’m wrapped in the arms
Of a glacier,

Copyright © twotypesofink 2014

Escaping the Silence

Where there was silence
I built shadows,
I gave them smiles,
Personalities
And made them
Two-faced, difficult
And in turn, human.

Copyright © twotypesofink 2014

Misplaced

Every word has been used
At least once,
And yet, the truth
Is as hidden now
As it was then,
Do I call that talent?
Or fear of
Speaking?

Copyright © twotypesofink 2014

Spasm

Can this contortion,
This crushing of fingers
Beneath their neighbours
Be both involuntary
And conscious?
Circulation has ceased
By the time I notice,
And yet I have followed
Each movement, counted
The seconds,
Minutes needed,
To unwind and collapse inward.

Copyright © twotypesofink 2014

Previous Older Entries