green coat.

deep, seducing eyes.
cold, judgemental, yet with so much capacity to love.
one day.

you push me, right to the edge,
and then you lay your hand on my arm.
to the point of hysterical, its hard to see how
you have no idea who you are.

you don't walk; you strut.
you don't smile; you smirk.
you don't laugh; you sneer.
and yet; people love you for it.

they love you too much.

sharp heels, clicking on the linoleum floor.
how ironic. you fit in because you have to,
but not for long.

you carry a resilient storm
to protect you from the rain, an admired accessory.
its doesn't stop you
from hurling thunder, lightning, hail
at others - tell me, when do you go too far?

we aren't like you.
words hurt, actions wound
like splinters, shards of glass.
or maybe thats just me.

oblivious.

you sit there, alone.
head resting against the window
eyes closed, mouth still.

i stride past, and look up
out of curiosity
and see you there, oblivious.

first i greet you, loudly
i wave my arms, jump around
smile; surely, you'll see me.

yet you stay unmoved,
gently breathing, clouds appearing
on the clear glass.

slightly frustrated, unnerved by your
pale, drowning expression
i can't leave you like this.

rough fists banging against the smooth
my face falls
i need you to see me.

people are staring
but don't you see? i don't care
its just you and me.

finally, softly, i murmur your name.
your eyelids flicker, lips part slightly
then the train moves away

i am left standing
head remains searching for your gaze
a recognition
like you know that i'm still here.

painting with feathers.

let me know when my world collapses
i'm just painting with feathers
flying through a world
full of colour and charm
behind me lies a trail
of purple chairs, blue moons
pink feet, red towels
yellow coats, green dresses
orange kisses, black cats
painting with feathers
flying on a neon breeze
let me know when my world collapses
don't burn my copper chains, please.

no reason.

i'm tired.
people ask me what's wrong; it bounces off.
do i need to say?
can't you see it in my hollow eyes
hear it in my breaking voice?
i'm sure you know it more than i do.

i cannot answer, for words fail.
chest is heavy, air is thick.
give me the words, speak my mind.
i know this is too much to ask, but
is it more or less than the price
of a shoulder to lean on or
a steady embrace?

one hand after the other,
grasping onto crumbling dirt
slipping through my weak, broken fingers
as i struggle to climb up the side of the molehill.
i am neither falling nor rising.
both seem better options than hanging
in a comatosed state of equilibrium
waiting for something.

"imagination is the power to collect red roses in winter."