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razz

The darkness chills, then comes the touch,
Night's entrancing, heavy sigh.
The moon is like you've never seen
And smiling from the sky.

Twilight laughs, and waves her hand
Her spell, a moonlit dance
Farewell to hectic, pressing life,
You fall within her trace.

"Come quick, my dear, and follow close,
To a place amongst the trees.
Of magic, light, and wonderment -
For only us to see.

The forest's now alive, my friend,
Not with footsteps, calls or breeze.
This silent stillness calls to life
The magic in these trees."

The only sound a slumbrous sigh
Branches stretch, the forest yawns
Time is frozen, but something stirs
In this world before the dawn.

Entranced, you blindly follow close
Yet seem to know the way
Darkness thickens, forbids the sun
Halts the coming of the day.

The journey ends within a glade
Soft moonlight floods the place.
Glowing hands caress, and then
You fall to her embrace.

Then all too soon, the morning comes
And glares with vivid light,
Life once again makes you forget,
The wonders of the night.

Let's Dance.
You and me alone on a polished wood floor, the moonlight our spotlight.
A gentle illumination, what's in the darkness doesn't matter.
We are all there is.

The past is a stage.
The lights are too bright, glaring in my face.
A multitude of players, they're too made up, their actions grotesque.
Then, a blur.
And then there's me.
The only one in grayscale. Muted.
Not really there.

The scene takes years to fade into this moonlight.
Years for it now to soften.
To dapple my skin, catch momentarily in my eyes.
To make me beautiful.
To you, the only one who matters.

A multitude of songs play themselves in my head.
Silently echoing their meaning, only in our scene.
Heartbeats become deafening and bring us Closer.
Exit Music a release from our past.
'Breathe. Keep Breathing. I can't do this alone.'

A rushing crescendo - a swirling, glittering mist of skirts.
Then the embrace.
This is our moment. For ever, or a day.

Lips melt together in the heat.
Gone are the costumes, and delicate scenery.
The night more beautiful without all that.
The moon smiles and dances with us now.
On our bare skin.

'Goodnight beautiful boy, see you in the morning.'
The roles have reversed.
The poles have switched.
Sleep is now the disappointment, and life the escape.

It's strange how things in life can happen. You can go along it believing that the mundane is all that exists, and that somehow the spectacular belongs only in the imagination. I read passages in books as recently as a year or so ago that used to make me smile, with how beautiful some people could imagine a world to be, but I would also laugh because I believed that some of the feelings described would always be fiction. It was always a bitter laugh, and one which always made my whole body feel cold and hollow. I've always valued my imagination above most other things. There was a time once where I would have given up everything real just to live there, with whatever, and whoever my mind wanted to create. But that was another time.

I was putting up photographs on our wall yesterday. We'd been to visit my Grandad, who has the most wonderful house that I have ever seen in my life - almost like something that you could dream. He's always been the person who I respect most. He lives alone with his dog, but his entire life is literally on the walls of his home. Everything that he loves, or has loved. His memories, his hobbies, everything. And it's covered from floor to ceiling, with no little piece of wall left showing.

I suppose I did that yesterday in his honor. That, or I stole his idea, but I'm sure he won't mind. If my home were ever like that, so far I would include every picture which is up there right now. My life began on Tuesday 17th March 2009 at 3:42pm when my son was born, and was made complete on Thursday 3rd September 2009 when the man who I had always loved took me out on our first 'official' date. I've known him since we were 8 years old, and I never dared to dream.
I look at this wall, filled with the smiling faces of just 3 people including myself, and this is my life. The feelings that I can read about are mine now, I don't just read them and cry as I used to, over their impossibility. I live them.

I'm getting married in about a month's time: the day after our anniversary. In a way, I am terrified. I have never had a lot of confidence, and it has frequently in the past been knocked down to the ground. I am getting stronger by the day I feel at the moment, and I know that I will walk down that aisle clutching my son's tiny hand, and fixing my gaze on the man waiting for me to say the words, and make the promise which is the most certain thing which I will ever do.

Thank you my little family, for making my life complete, and for allowing me to wish to live in my reality. I love you both more than I can ever say.

You let me borrow your wings for a while,
and pointed me in the right direction.
You give me the strength to find my own,
and away we'll fly together.

You've handed me the missing pieces,
Taught me I was living half a life.
I'll share my world, hold you tight,
And finally see the world in colour.

I’m in limbo, suspended.

A lifeless puppet.

But I’m heavy, I’m falling.

My head is the rock dragging me down.

It’s filled with smoke,

and swirling inky water.

My mouth is closed but screaming, like I dare not to.

I want to feel pain.



A stone wrapped in fabric,

plummeting and fluttering a white comet’s tail.

A bird has forgotten to use its wings.

“God, you’re so beautiful!”



This will be an atomic end.