On lonely nights when
the moon
is absent from the sky,
and all
my distractions are spent.
The sky
so dark even the void feels
approachable.
The room as quiet as the
stars.
I dream about the past in
metaphors
It whispers to me in hushed
alliteration.
Bent close to the curve of
my ear.
Unfastening all its forgotten
secrets.
Dissolving inside of me. I
struggle to
find meaning in yesterday’s
lament.
When I awake the night’s
residue will
find its way to paper, to
text, that
you, my reader, will decipher.
My words carry dust.
-Tosha Michelle
Everything I Never Told You 
I love reading your words, Tosha.
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Thank you. I appreciate you taking time to read
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FABULOUS! FABULOUS! everything! the poem, the visual (love that painting!), the song!
“I struggle to find meaning in yesterday’s lament”……that hit me.
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Thank you. I truly feel the past can teach us so much. Mine is teaching me to let go.
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Beautifully written and, the past is teaching you well 🙂
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Yes, too bad the past is such a bastard. Haha
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hahaha…better to teach you with, my dear *witchy voice*
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F you. Ha-ha
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Wow, this is simply lovely, Tosha. I’m short on words here because you used all the good ones! 😉 Seriously though, so beautiful.
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Ha-ha. 😉
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I needed this today–thank you.
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You’re welcome. Thanks so much for commenting
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This is beautiful. I enjoy all of your work, Tosha. It keeps me going, many days. xx
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Love YOU.
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Lovely and I liked most of all “When I awake the night’s
residue will
find its way to paper, to
text, that
you, my reader, will decipher.
My words carry dust.”
this is exactly how I feel when I write as I write what I “(day/)dream” mainly
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Thank you. We write what we know, what we imagine and what we hope for
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Yes, all three mixed up. The problem is trying to figure out which is which sometimes
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So true.
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