drawing words.

love affair with the moon.

the moon was low in the sky tonight. i've never seen him like that before ... so huge and beautiful, as if he ruled both land and sky, balancing on the horizon amidst the darkness. i felt completely in awe of him. a silent awe, a respectful sense of .. wow.

i've always had a love affair with the moon. it must be so lonely up there, suspended in space, with only your own thoughts for amusement. he must stare endlessly at us,
watching each night as lights blink on and off,
and eyes close.

he is the end of the day, a peaceful reminder of rest.
a reassuring light when everything turns dark.

he is humble, no match against the overwhelming sun, but he doesn't mind. he sits there -
whole, half, cresent, quiet,
observing.

i feel safe when the moon shines, walking in the his silver rays.
i am protected from what i cannot see beside me.

and this evening, as his usual presence grew,
and maybe expressed a little of his exuberant side as he glowed a perfect gold,
i thanked him for his honesty, his patience. for listening to me from time to time.

for keeping me safe, never failing to be there, even when it appears that he had left,
and a shadow formed in his place.

so, here's to the moon. let me know if you ever need any company.

you, the spider, continued.

i twist and turn, struggling against the slow spin of the thin, coarse ropes embedded with your subtle seduction.
you push me, poke me, choke me; one stroke of my spine and your poison paralyses my unsuspecting senses.

then you discard me, throw me aside, and leaving me spinning, sobbing in the dark.
every time i fall for it, my feeble wings trapped beneath the intoxication of false hope.

i know that i should, at every chance, break free from love's lethal clutches.

yet i cannot leave, for your scent and touch are like the release of heroin flooding through my craving bloodstream.

once again, i am tangled in the threads of your dangerous affection, but this time i am a chained prisoner of my own fatal choices.

surrender.

i know who i am, but sometimes it made me sad.
i recognise my reflection in the windows i pass, but sometimes it startled me.


without seeing my appearance staring back from the glass, i can be happy.
she lives in another world, far from my reality.
strength was once the highest thing i valued in myself,
the one thing i yearned to have, just to please the girl trapped in the mirror.
now i understand that my weaknesses form my soul,
not the strengths that undermine my emotions
and gave that girl power to consume my defenceless mind.


i can fall back into space,
and not care if the holes in the net are larger than my fragile body.
it'll catch me when it's ready.
vulnerable and weak as i am,
for now, i think i'll just close my eyes,
and keep falling through the skies
of my small world.

every time.

round leather ball
flying through the air
i shoot; i fail.

sweat dripping
clothes sticking
i shoot; i fail.

shivering, surrounded by
heavy breath, humid, stale
i shoot; i fail.

spirits sinking
head pounding
i shoot; i fail.

lights fading
people screaming
i shoot; i fail.

perseverance
sneering conscience
i shoot; i fail.

consolations
confrontations
i shoot; i fail.
every time.