Only words remain

writer2

The swirling veil of waking mist
Was swept aside as morning kissed
The sleeping world that lay below
And waking winds began to blow

She felt it in her heart that morn
A sense of smallness so forlorn
And even as the breeze danced round
The life in her could make no sound

With silent scream and wordless needs
On paper blood red ink she bleeds
And heart and soul she bares to all
Each page a brick in hearts cruel wall

And on the world she leaves her mark
As shadows creep in somber dark
Her poignant words all that remain
Evidence of the life she lived in vain


This is another collaborative poem, and this time I had the pleasure of working with Michael from Afterwards.  All of his words are italicized.  Thanks so much Michael, for working on this with me.  I really love how it turned out.  😉

Running to Who from Where

boy

Running low on hope
empty desires fade on the winds
rescue seems futile in the footnotes
of reckless endangerment
and sin’s
got an $8.50 ticket to my scene
blood, forget, more blood in my dreams
there’s rivers, but I can’t drink
there’s night, but I can’t sleep
just me and my memories run amuck in mind
just me and my sanity, hiatus for long times
just me and my insecurities, I need a sign
just me and
I can’t finish the line
I’ve done so much wrong
Would it even be right?
To go on
To become one with the light?
I’ve won and I’ve lost
Tossed
And I’ve turned
To bring back what could’ve been
That just isn’t me
Once remembered
Once forgotten
And once again
I lay here alone
Ideas and thoughts not of my own
What happened to a home?
Or a place to call my own?
Well that just isn’t foretold
Feeling old
Yet it’s only cold
Feeling gray
Yet what can I say?
To the me that has yet to be seen
Or is that just simply a dream?
Just who am I?
To be brave?
To be saved?
To brave the calling of reality
To lose my senses of insanity
I want to say it’s alright
But how can I?
Just a lie
Then I sigh
Even though I try
I just can’t seem to say good-bye
Maybe there is more
Turning a blind-eye to what made me sore
Yet I can’t let go of the “Who” that is me
And I can’t let go of the “Where” that I might go
And I can’t bring myself to give up
On what might’ve been saved

 

Written by, Devereaux Frazier and Brianna Cook

*All italicized words written by Devereaux.

Just want to say thank you, to both Devereaux and Brianna for your participation.  This poem is wonderfully written.  You both did an amazing job!  😉