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A love letter to my devotedHear me read it!

A touch without invasion.
That ever elusive exhale of love in the skies.

The quiet stateliness
of fingers searching palms
He held my hand.

A kiss without allusion.
The constant thrum of light specks chasing sun rise.

The tenderest smile
of knowing, to be known.
She held my heart.

The patient sun without intrusion
Lit the world aflame through devotion in their eyes.

Rock BottomThey say a rolling stone gathers no moss,
so when I shudder to a halt
The rocks in my feet continue to grind.
I feel the sand in my lungs
and the regretful mist silting in my heart
as the waves come back in
reaching eagerly for my legs, spooling, churning
over me. Rooted in my misery.
I know the rocks in my feet will help me drown.

BlackI chew on the blubbery meat of my tongue,
But it revulses
So whenever I swallow I gag.

I try not to inhale the acrid hiss of discontent
That seeps out of the corners of my mouth
And runs a river down my chin;
It reminds me of peaches. I cry.

I have digested the venom
The black rotten root of my own plague;
Ingested it. Injected it. How quick I am to accept death to me.

As organs revolve, revolt, regurgitate
I caged butterflies in my abdomen
As if lushness couldn't catch them there.
I knew better.

I ple'd to the sewn-in stars and their makeshift tenants,
For salvation and for suicide.
They offered neither.

So I sit and stew in these bodil

A chance secondI lie awake, staring at the cornices.
3AM: my fingers worry at the corners of my sheet.
My anxiety worries at the corners of my rib.
I bite and tug and huff out my misery
As the silence keeps me awake.
I lay with pressure of your absence
Pressing down over my nose and mouth.
A soft asphixiation of the heart, of the sanity.
It is a hot grey night in London.

You are awake, startled by the sunlight.
7AM: you can't lift your weighty skull from the sheet.
The day sirens, but you stay, settled,
Under the weight of your shroud, your loss,
Only the silence keeps you awake.
Unknowingly, for the first time in weeks
We are unintentionally in sync;
Laid

Hard.On days like this it is hard to move
It is hard to dress myself.
Blouse a chest plate; dress me in chain mail.
- with the helmet on it is hard to see
it is hard to open my eyes, or lift my chin.
On days like this, it is hard to be human.

It is hard to raise my hands, to button
or to brush my mangy hair.
It is hard to construct the image of a person
out of these destitute materials.
it is hard to pump clotted, crumbling blood.
On days like this, it is hard to be human.

BuriedUnder the paprika house,
are the bones of my father
and nestled between rib
and reason, is our love.

AfterIt follows me.
My silver skeined ghost.

An almost imperceptible thread;
only visible when you shine light
directly upon it.
It follows me.

It rides the underground.
It hides under bridges,
Under trains.
It is woven into the spools of tar
that form the roads between.

Inevitably if I walk too fast
it reminds me -
Like the tug of stitches in your cheek
that reminds you; you have lost your wisdom.
It reminds me.

It trips me in doorways,
when my mind is elsewhere.
If I look away from it -
- it slips round my neck.
Another knot to throw over the beams
it mauls me without a fair chance.

I tried to sever it. I can't.

Sometimes, it's the little things.He always told me I was deep.
An unfiltered distillation of a humanitarian ocean.

He accepted me, gills and all -
He knew that I needed my eccentricities to breathe
under the seascrapers of pollution
that hung over my head.
Or he said he did.

At the end of it all,
he tugged the gills open to expose me;
my innards trailed across the coral reef
as I swam trustingly forward, hoping for the best.
I tried to believe.

I believed him, gills and all -
But eventually, he left me, with holes in my sides
Where he had spooned out my intestines
To tether them to a boulder.
I tried to breath

HAIKUWRIMOCOMPLETE 2013

February 28th, 2013

Dire desperation
A feeble whimper for help;
roar of these raw times.

February 27th, 2013

Gluttonous ash cloud
sucks the moon's blood
and swallows the night.

February 26th, 2013

Bark! An explosion!
Angry bodies escape the
network of lung cells.

February 25th, 2013

Silently cloning,
multiplying, honing in,
determined to kill.

February 24th, 2013

Tea and sympathy
readily available
for my dear sister.

February 23rd, 2013

I will hold my breath
as the north wind does the same
waiting for your love.

February 22nd, 2013

He hovers behind;
Hamletian apparition.
Always following.

February 21st, 2013

A lo

In absence of a poem.I chewed my pen to the nib
and swallowed the ink thoughtlessly,
but no matter how long I thought,
I couldn't say what you mean to me.

I tried, I tried and I tested,
every word in my diminutive range,
but I screwed up more pieces of paper
and happened upon something strange;

I noticed words, which have served me,
for all of my formative years,
had no power to convey my gratitude
for the times that you dried my tears.

Whenever I doubt myself (often),
You're the one who tells me I'm wrong
You lift up my chin and remind me, wait
for the good things that will come along.

I can't find a way to express how
you are the saving grace in my head.
So

TerminalI want to kill you.

I want our love to be terminal,
And for it to be wrapped
around your heart tight when you die.
I want you to be looking
into my eyes when you do,
And I want you to know
what I have done to you,
for you.

I want our love to be terminal,
Or rather; til death do us part.

I meant what I said,
I want our love to last until you die,
Or I die,
Or beyond that.

Or; simply,
I want to spend my life with you.

ShockwaveFoetal
Trying to fold the pain up
To trap it between the paper cut limbs.
Curled up
Protective
But the shockwaves come
Pulsing from inside
Destroying cells
Radiocactive
Curled up
To trap it between the paper cut limbs.
Trying to fold the pain up.
Foetal.

My FavouriteShe is my favourite.
No siren song marks me deeper.
There is nowt but dust between us.

She is the herald of my thoughts,
The anthem of my days
She knows all my knowings well.

She is tense and bitter
when I must wear my Brave Face.
She weeps when I may not.

She pours her secrets, vermillion,
From ink to blotted page
So I may toss them aside, and breathe.

She is my favourite,
She who unmarvels me marvellously.
She who whispers in my tongue.

JoeyWhen I was younger people called me Joey. I never knew why, it wasn't my name and I hated it. Eventually the name became a fisted ball in my gut until one day it smashed out through my windpipe, cracking my teeth as I screamed that I was not who they thought I was. They thought I'd gone mad, disclaiming my name, the identity they had saddled with me... but I thought that they were the mad ones. For who wants to be an identity decided by someone else. No one calls me Joey now, but if they did I would let them, safe in the knowledge that I know who I am not

Of ForestsPinecones are the skeletons of foetal trees.
They are the hopes, desires and dreams of a forest
reduced to the brittle, breakable bones under it all.
They are the unburied memories of loss.

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More from `KathrynODriscoll

Lungs - Draft One /There's no reason to reach for me,
No life left in my lungs,
No empathy could form for me,
On malcontented tongues.

Hush darling, don't cry out for me,
Your cries are lost in air,
There's no reason to cry for me,
When I'm no longer there.

You think of how you miss me,
My smiling through the pain,
But you never really knew me,
And now we'll never be the same.

I can't leave you any wisdom,
To strengthen as you weep,
In truth my dying thoughts were;
At last, now I can sleep.

Rock Paper Scissors - Draft One /I wanted to be vulnerable.
I made a castle out of paper;
I cut out windows and doors,
A fricasonce of detail,

I left out the tower, the turret,
The moat and the maze.
I kept it simple and open,
So that you could find me.

~

The daisies in my garden grew,
and I, the shrinking violet -
They warped together and rebelled
Into a hedgerow, thick and violent.

Eventually they blocked the sun,
and then even the rain
And crease after crease in my defenses
Folded beneath the weight of them.

~

I will fall, and melt away;
Into petal dust and manure.
I will feed roses and forget-me-nots,
Not because you forgot me

But because I for

Delusional - Draft One /We spread our delusions of love,
Carefully unfolded from the tinfoil
and offer them up to the sunlight -

We catch fleetlings and pin them;
Postmark and print them,
and offer them up to the sunlight.

We suppose our supposings the best,
And herald them rumpunctiously
As a crow on New Years night.

We follow our egos, then hearts,
and tell ourselves we are a canvas
For loves great many works.

We are squirming with letters
Inked and etched with other egos thoughts,
I am the canvas, I am the artist.

We are desperately seeking -
Would like to meet -
Originality, above honesty for art.

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Submitted: December 19, 2012
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End of the world

by `KathrynODriscoll, Dec 19, 2012, 6:08:44 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

It's not the red of the dying sun
Or the passion swelling in my tongue,
It's not the shock of black or white.
It's not the growling of the night.

We're not the one's who hold their breath
and pray for life, or pray for death,
We're not the ones who hope for more.
We're not heaving with fashioned furore.

I'm not asking for another year to
Mourn all the things we'll never do.
I love you, I kiss you, I smile and then -
The world may implode, and I'll love you again.

End of the worldby `KathrynODriscoll

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

©2012-2013 `KathrynODriscoll

for RS, inspired by the title of this beautiful photo [link] so thank you!

Just a round about way of saying, it doesn't matter if the world ends, I'll love you even after that.

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~Pen-and-mouse Dec 27, 2012

This one flows so smoothly.. and it's just so lovely.. I adore that little piece of Art!

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`KathrynODriscoll Dec 27, 2012 Student Writer

Smiles shyly, I'm really glad you liked it! I hope he liked it as much

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~Pen-and-mouse Dec 28, 2012

Reply

Mood: Love

~trueshinken Dec 21, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Sweet.

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`KathrynODriscoll Dec 21, 2012 Student Writer

Thanks!

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~FoxofEbony Dec 20, 2012

beautiful I love the opening and closing line

Reply

`KathrynODriscoll Dec 21, 2012 Student Writer

smiles, yay! thank you so much!

Reply

~FoxofEbony Dec 23, 2012

no problem

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~augumon05 Dec 20, 2012

beautiful, i wish i had someone i could use this for, but alas i am forever alone.

Reply

`KathrynODriscoll Dec 20, 2012 Student Writer

I doubt that,

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