Caramel Crying

February 3, 2013 at 12:33 AM (Poetry, Posts)

The leaves swirled in the wind. Mocha and auburn and caramel colored in the wind. The air was crisp and my breath mingled with the clouds, as my footsteps echoed off the pavement.
“I never should have married you!”
“Get out! Leave!”
I heard shouting from within a calm, shuttered window. A door slammed. Crying carried far in the wind. I floated within it, down the street.
I sat in the cold grass. Leaves fell around me, settled and aged. I closed my eyes and heard crying in my skull. Then, music wafted over me, lilting and tilting in the wind.
I spread my fingers out, through each blade. Felt them glisten. I threw my head back and opened my eyes to the sky.
He was standing over me. Placed a caramel leaf on my nose, where it floated onto my chest.
I heard him whisper.

“I love you.”


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Listen To Your Heart

August 26, 2012 at 6:43 AM (Poetry, Posts)

“Maybe we should wait for a special moment,

like everyone’s been telling us.”

“This is a special moment, every minute with you is

unforgettable. This is right.”

“I love you”

“I love You”

He kisses me, his body pressed down on mine, his hands

in my hair. His weight, his warmth, always feel so right. I touch

his face, and run another hand down his back, under his shirt.

Deep brown eyes are open to mine, and I see all of his

emotion, all his kindness, joy, reverence.

She belongs to him. Their love is quiet and slow,

but passionate, overwhelming. He holds her close, buries

his face in her neck. She fights to keep her eyes open, running

her fingers through his hair and whispering promises.

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September 14, 2011 at 1:18 AM (Posts)

The mesmerizing tones of Phantom music fill me as I belt out the soprano parts. I love this feeling, and I love having this girl beside me. Her hair is blonde now but soon it will have strawberry highlights. After school choir is every Thursday and that day is still my favorite. We meet in the girls’ bathroom when it’s over and she touches up my make-up. We make our way down Half Hallow, my combat boots the light steady beat behind her skipping personality.

I want to stop at the park on the way and she gives in, running to the swings. We stay like this for a while- bags abandoned on the recycled tire floor, laughing, the swing set jerking back and forth. Then we move on. Our regular Monster and Whoppers candy in hand. The sugar makes us bubbly, the sharing makes me loved. We surround ourselves with books and read only sparingly.

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