What she sees

I wonder what she sees
whilst staring at the blankness
of the middle distance, a space
of starless nights, streaks of shadows
cutting across her weightless sight.
This is her death, the way she dies,
yet somewhere in that broken mind
she breathes a restless sigh.
I wonder at her choice,
preferring numbness over life.
Her healing burns,
she feels the pain it gives.
If she knew what I knew,
would she choose to live?

 

by Louise

Butterfly

A simple butterfly
opens its wings
to fly in fleeting
colour, so beautiful
yet sad  that everything
must die, even me
living my immortality
with folded wings,
beating heart.
I will remember you,
put you deep inside,
go out into the world
and live.

Existence


Right about now
is the zenith hour,
where it all begins
and ends with sorrow
in your salty tears,
vivid dreams dancing
ballet in your head.

Curled up on your own,
hopes glisten, reflect
the moonlight through an
attic window, stars captured
by your gaze. A whispered
voice resonates from
somewhere deep inside.

Can you hear it?


By Louise