Free verse poetry
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What if the myth's had never died?
Instead their blood creeped into ours?
You can see the blood of fae in the pirouette of a ballet dancer,
In the way the rebeling teenagers create turmoil wherever they roam.
They grow long, coming out the same homegetting thick by each slicerarely pulled by the core.
You were my present tense
And supposedly my future tense
Everything seemed fine
Until errors were made
Now all you ever are
Is my past tense
sometimes i write Letters
Letters that will never be given
Letters that will never truly live
Letters that will be hidden
or perhaps just thrown away
Letters that will be read by no person but me
It was the first time he danced me around his living room like a fine oak puppet to loud music raging through the air. I felt wildly alive in his arms.
Gaping holes in your earnest ramblings you
Wait for me to fill them like a floral puzzle piece discovered under the couch
Oldagearrivedin search ofwhere it came fromand, of how and whenits silent voice and violenttome, summoned the otherseach alone and without facetouched, blinded, soul less
I cannot dance or sing
I say things in a voice that does not ring
My voiced opinion is simply
shouts into oblivion
praises on the wind
I say things while realizing
