I remain in slumbered thought
And yet my mind aches to go To be what I should be To know what I should know
And yet here I sit as always
My body fighting with my mind The balance between them both So off-kilter so unkind
The brain at war with the bones
The bones set in stubborn recluse I fear not even an earthquake Could shake my body loose
Stuck in that realm of isolation
Peering down on a grand parade Wishing to be part of everything Will no one come to my aid?
I’ve become like a stone statue
Watching the crowds pass by Already in my coffin Stuck in my mind’s eye
The world hums around me
I’m a lone spectator to the buzz I remain in sequestered solitude Free from what the world does
© 2023 Michelle Cook
Their connection was unique Formed from remnants of dismantled dreams And wiry bits of tattered truths It was the kind of connection Which everyone assumed would never last Even time seemed to consider it a lost cause But somehow between the layers Of their oddly structured foundation An unbelievable bond was formed Secretly this tie grew stronger Day by day and year by year And without fail they proved the impossible was possible
© 2022 Michelle Cook
Here waiting by this old rusty door, the key to my future and all its splendor.
Walking through the door, a brilliant light floods my path; darkness dissipates behind me as I make a mad dash.
Finally, free of all I’ve ever known and endured, your outstretched hand in front of me, so gentle and concerned.
At long last, finding the place where I belong, wrapped in a love so tender and yet so strong.
Your embrace whisking me away from this world, the depths of our desires at last unfurled.
© 2022 Michelle Cook
Writing prompt: Here waiting by the door
In whispers along those distant easterly winds, I hear you yearning from deep within.
A hushed desire, a shushed thrill, waiting and wanting as the cold night stills.
Desperate longing, so loving and sure, making all these miles so hard to endure.
Racing thoughts as cravings run rampant, yet suffocated by sheets where warmth is absent.
The days tick by while our breasts lay bare, but dreams they beckon, flourishing in the air.
Our fantasies morph into realistic pleasures and dancing after dusk is our favorite endeavor.
But it’s there in the shadows where we truly find our way, into each other’s arms, where we strive to stay.
Desperate for one kiss, appeased by a calming sigh hidden in our hearts, all the many reasons why.
© 2020 Michelle Cook
Originally written: June 2020