The catch in your throat
The shutter of your breath
Eyes flutter closed.
Fingertips trailing
Supple skin exposed.
Shivers
Stirring in me something,
base and primal.
The passion
twisting.
coiling,
brewing.
Fuse lite.
I want.
I need.
More
Never enough.
Greedy,
Demanding.
I long to consume you in excess
until our limbs are exhausted,
and you have penetrated my body and soul
with a revered language only you and I know.
We’re a calamity,
a certifiable disaster.
There’s no serenity in the way we are going.
I try to be unbreakable and you unshakable,
but we’re splintered by the weight of words.
Shattered, jagged,
shards of glass,
pain and the bittersweet sting.
I see my soul in your eyes.
You’re just as fu**ed as I am.
Maybe we did that to each other
but somehow it feels right.
I’d rather walk in the fractured shadows with you
Bleeding, but alive,
than loll in the sun with anyone else.
catatonic and numb.
Your essence lingers in the air.
I still hear your ballad,
the singer of my heart,
your immortal intonation
The serene melody covers me.
It entices and seduces me.
drawing me back to the days of utopia
where I was muse and you were the tune I danced to.
I think. I think too much.
I’m chained to my brain’s chaos
My heart guarded but afraid.
Pain marred scars.
Tell stories of a sensitive soul
Lost in a high tide zone.
Battered by the currents of regret.
Burned by a scornful sun.
Thoughts swirl in endless motion.
Disturbing my equilibrium
Demons born on the waves of insecurities.
Hellions of a mind.
They reign, feeding on my weaknesses.
One day I hope to stage a rebellion.
Until then..
I remain a paragon of hypercritical introspection.
MUSIC by Charles BaudelaireWith breast advanced, drinking the winds that flee,
And through the cordage wail,
I mount the hurrying waves night hides from me
Beneath her sombre veil.
I feel the tremblings of all passions known
To ships before the breeze;
Cradled by gentle winds, or tempest-blown
I pass the abysmal seas
That are, when calm, the mirror level and fair
Of my despair!
“In the night, i hear ’em talk,
The coldest story ever told
Somewhere far along this road, he lost his soul to a woman so heartless…
How could you be so heartless?
Oh… how could you be so heartless?”
My cover of “Heartless”
a poem in progress.
Some people see the world through rose colored lenses
happy to bask in the cotton candy haze
of denial while sitting under a gumdrop tree
Feasting on the nectar of blissful delusions
Their eyes only see beauty and peace.
Some people see the world through scratched, dirty lenses
Lenses marred by a lifetime of hard use.
Futilely trying to clean the glasses in a pond of
skepticism and regret.
Their eyes only see negatively and hate.
Other people break free of the lenses.
2020 vision is within their reach.
These people know
that sometimes the road to hope begins with despair.
that pain and love often walk hand in hand.
They refuse to play peekaboo with their problems.
Instead, facing them head on.
Their eyes see the world as it is-both the good and the bad.
She left on an orange blossom morning.
with a suitcase full of forget me nots
and a map of the stars.
trotting down an uncharted path.
Singing a tune.
she misplaced long ago.
Taken the bridge out of Eden.
over a river of forgotten dreams.
Seeking solace and shade
under a willow tree.
melting into spring green and new beginnings.
Only Words.
by Tosha Michelle
What does it mean to be a poet?
I spend so much time with paper and pen.
Rehashing what was.
Regurgitating what could have been
Lost in my mind’s madness.
Moving like the speed of light.
Trying to catch some long gone comet in the sky.
My words hit or miss.
What am I trying to convey?
I’m stuck in creative recession.
Maybe, I’m just a fool.
Drowning in syntax and emotions.
I Loved Him.
by Tosha Michelle
I loved him once.
the boy with summer in his eyes.
I wanted to offer him the luster of asbestos
to stroke the flames of an autumn fire.
Instead I watched him fall.
into a bed of thorns.
Sharpen and ready.
waiting for the unwise.
He lay before me.
bleeding poison.
adorned in the pains and wounds
of a love untouched
a rosebud erased.
Everything I Never Told You 