Can you weigh my dreams? How heavy seeming here on top of me, not mother’s quilt, but quilted still & deep to bury me; will I be free? & he?
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Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Saturday, February 14, 2015
Friday, February 13, 2015
When roses die, the petals fall, and leaves like brittle sawdust crack and rip her feeble skin;
she’s clearing dreams that ended;
When roses die the blood is red
that drips to feed the worms of words unsaid,
that blisters heartache’s burns
while sharpened thorns return.
He loved; she loved; their love so hot
it burned the rosepetals to dust
& melted chocolate hearts, then he
departed; she’s still cleaning up
Red petals bloom,
sweet chocolate gloom,
she’s met her doom
& leaking, soon
this darkened room
will see his food,
is petals from her throat
Red petals rise
to brightened skies,
she’ll not despise
his love, but why’s
he seeking to
the wondrous hour?
Wings spread, she flies.
An angel’s haunted dream was he
a devil’s haunted hope &she
imagined she could change but we
the offspring ever strange
still dream of these
|1.||A. F. Stewart||6.||Ash Krafton||11.||Sheila Deeth's Drabbles|
|2.||Books and Paintings by JoAnne||7.||Horror Made||12.||Excerpt from Shifter|
|3.||L.G. Keltner||8.||HauntingTV||13.||Dandilyon Fluff…|
|4.||An Angell's Life||9.||The Old Man and Me Book III|
|5.||Spirit Writer||10.||Danielle E. Shipley|