FLUSHED

I carefully pick lighthearted words
to make them drift gently,
like a transparent smoke,
where they sound all muffled
and less conspicuous.

(Unlike my feelings at the moment,
weighing heavily
in the murk of a gloomy night).

I want to fall
into this darkness of my own nightmare,
so I could chase my own footsteps
and remember the day,
when I first felt your importance
in this world.
You wore a cloak
of unapproachable air about you,
that I couldn’t stop breathing in
and out -
irony,
knowing my not-so-obedient nature.
I watched your lips move,
inventing all inaudible sounds,
that got my mind thinking
of cherry blossom trees
and maple syrup sweetness.
I stooped as low
as my pride would allow me,
but that made no difference
to how you saw me -
in awe with you.
I turned your life around,
and it reminded you
of that first flush of morning,
when I told you, that
kidnapping hearts is what I do best.
I preserve them
in faded envelopes
and empty mason jars,
making sure
I never let them beat again.
Some things are better bottled up
and hidden away
in a locked up cupboard
of secret things.

- Chatty Owl -


58 responses to “FLUSHED

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