that invisible string

you tugged
was attached
to my heart

~~~

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

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torture is

giving me a taste
of your magic, leaving me
with constant yearning

~~~

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

I won’t be broken

once again I walk
the city streets
they look familiar
and new

faces forlorn
one of them might as well
just have been mine:
these corners are where
I learned to swallow
bitterness
pretending it was honey

I lost a lot of city’s skyline
once embroidered in my eyes
not for I wanted
to forget where I was born—
but because I promised
not to be broken
though that’s where
I came from

I had to walk away
to keep it together

so that I can return
to city streets
feeling familiar and new
proudly saying I’m better
because I promised
not to be broken

~~~

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

wickedness within

~~~

Written for gratitude note and #WhisperingNeds 139, ‘tips’.

Audio here.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

raison d’être

You.

~~~

In French or otherwise.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

distance is relative

even when our bodies
become one
your skin on mine
we will always be
too far
apart

~~~

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

time is a foe

what happened to
newness stored
in a mason jar

its shine faded
sound drowned

I despise time
for walking away
from yesterday

I refuse to be
in the here and now
because you’re
not in it

~~~

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

until it’s time to go home

Night falls, shadows darken. A cacophony of noise fades away on the heels of the sun. What follows is deafening silence; somewhat welcome yet disturbing, because then the voice gets louder.

One of these nights the road will lead to the bridge, and by then crossing will be inevitable. It will be the moment the voice has been whispering about; a whisper that grows into a sigh, into a cry.

Then subliminal desire will surface; barriers will be broken, lines trespassed. It will feel right, because it will be home.

Until then, night falls, shadows darken, and heart is left with nothing else to do but yearn.

~~~

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved