Absent Song

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I imagine you in a coffee shop.
Somewhere along the West End.
Sipping your mocha
Eyes transfixed on a book
Lost in words and silent meditation
Gently tapping your foot
to some obscure tune in your head

I am but a distance speck
a muted memory

For me, you are always there
cannibalizing my thoughts
dancing in my dreams
your scent lingering
on nostalgia’s breeze

Impressions locked away
like the sweetest wine.

I recall when our days
were governed by
a smile and touch
where we ran through
the meadows of life
without a care

The grass green
devoid of tears

Summer days where we were
as wild as the flowers in bloom

I recall the pub we stopped in
to take shelter from the rain
me, with my diet coke
you with your scotch
We warmed to the sound
of hushed laughter
laced with serenity

We raised our glasses
to friendship and love
even the clouds
couldn’t shatter
the beauty of the moment

That was a lifetime ago
These days I go on with living
content with what was
Missing what can never be

I’ll always love you
and wish you were near

Perhaps, one day you’ll
look to the sky
and reflect on
a girl with golden hair,
and feel the silence
of her absent song.

-Tosha Michelle

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Under The Influence

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Note-this poem was inspired by the song

“Tear in My Heart”  You can listen below.

Under The Influence

She’s an occupant in your bombastic mind.

She dwells there rent free

Evocative. Ethereal..Effectual.

a centaur in cortex of your brain.

Wreaking havoc on your temporal lobe

She hordes your thoughts.

The ones you don’t dare speak out loud.

She’s there in the soundless stillness.

Can you hear her?

Listen to the silence.

Can you feel her?

She’s the sound of your butcher carved heart,

the expression of you tempestuous tortured soul.

The perfect storm birthed out of a dying hurricane of nostalgia, .

She is the coldness of regret, the impish echoes in your thick skull,

drunk on the summer rain pouring down in a caustic shower

You stagger on listening to the water drops whisper

as they fall on the spider web of an abstract ghost

the fallen angel inside your head.

-Tosha Michelle

Reminiscence Notes

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“how sad and bad and mad it was – but then, how it was sweet”
Robert Browning

Nostalgia echoes

Chattering for the past.

I try to grasp the reminiscence notes.

The melody is bittersweet.

I dance with memories in my hallucinating solitude.

My scars are bare. A testament to what once was.

What could have been scratches and picks at them.

Bleeding for the remains of love, buried in a transcendent alcove.

The devils hide there taunting the mind.

Only satiate when I drown in grief

and choke on the ashes of yesterday.

-Tosha Michelle