Expectant thrill
falls short
on celebration,
empty words
not even spoken
or considered.
Why did you
still want them
so badly?
Fiction and poetry writing, recapturing the muse.
Expectant thrill
falls short
on celebration,
empty words
not even spoken
or considered.
Why did you
still want them
so badly?
Muscle memory
of the skilled
faded through years
of neglect.
Reacquaint yourself
and remember
when you danced
and dived
at the top.
Content croissant
curled on the sofa,
drooping eyes
as you watch
your security
stay by your side.
Warmth and mischief
will fuel you again.
Complete my story
and shelf it,
forgotten
as a present happening
and now considered
irrelevant.
Wash away experience
because of the dirt
it brought with it.
Was it better
to keep it?
Or are you too tired
to fight for it
anymore?
Change my form
but not my essence,
presenting the world
with shapes and actions
I’ll continue to
emerge from,
but still
always be myself.
Sit beside me
with a gap
and recoil
from affection.
Is this normal now?
Alone free time together
but resentment
of presence
keeps us apart.
Do you miss me
when I disappear?
Make a stand
and reclaim a legacy
to remind them
who you are,
what you represent,
and why
you will never
be forgotten
or ignored.
Rekindle
a flame that
burnt too bright
and scorched
your existence,
leaving charred pieces
that rebuilt into better.
Are you really wiling
to risk everything
again?
Changed by tragedy,
a body wrapped
with scars
that bare your pain
to the world.
Do you remember
who you were,
even if they don’t?
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