I painted it white

January 26, 2014May 1, 2014 ~ hiraethphoenix ~ Leave a comment

I reach now to the past
To the simplicity of what
Once was
The safety of the known
No surprises
A picket fence home
I forget the spaces, voids
Left unfulfilled
I pick the memories scrapbook
Them to reflect then
Is better than now
The heart is deceitful in its
Memory
It serves itself, partial lies
Obscuring obvious truth.
Bruce Springsteen did not
Save us, nor our love of dogs
I instead dreamt of beaches
And sunsets
And innocence long lost.
Here then is the truth,
A picture of grey:
black and white blended
In a collage of what once was
And is stored in my heart
Forever
In white
(to the detriment of my soul)

The mundane

January 26, 2014 ~ hiraethphoenix ~ Leave a comment

I’m scared of settling into a rut;
The every day;
The no longer really seeing each
Other,
Instead through each other:
The mundane,
The I know you are here
And mine when I need you,
Is an easy temptation
A comfortable place
But one I know can very
Quickly become a place
Of permanent stay
And one day
It might be far from now
(or nearer than we think )
We will look at each other
And wonder how we became
Strangers,
How we let us go.
How sad that would be;
But sadder still:
Only one of
Us is noticing it.

Little by little

January 25, 2014May 1, 2014 ~ hiraethphoenix ~ Leave a comment

Little by little
You tear down
What I thought
Love is
What growth is,
What is
Sacred ground
And little by little
I question if my notion
Of love exists or is
A figment of a fairytale
Long told, out sold
Perhaps if I convince
You
Little by little
You will see love
As I do,
Or not and
That will break me
Little by little
Little by little.
Just a little.

And so I cried

January 25, 2014January 25, 2014 ~ hiraethphoenix ~ Leave a comment

And so I cried
Because some things
Are worth changing
And some not
Because friends die
And true friends are so few,
Because people divorce
And hang themselves
While we take care of
Our children next door
Because we leave one
Life believing in another
Only to find it does not
Exist
And so I cried
Because here is my choice
And it is made
Because people lose themselves
And find themselves
And wake up realising
They lost so so much
And so I cried because
Bruce Springsteen wasn’t enough
And I wanted it to be
And so I cried because
Maybe
I was born to run

I am Yours

January 24, 2014January 25, 2014 ~ hiraethphoenix ~ Leave a comment

You should know
You have captured my heart
Every cell, every chamber
Every ventricle:
Filled with you.
(I believe again in love,
It’s promise, it’s hope
It’s childlike innocence)
Here then is my heart,
Scarred but intact
With your name etched
Forever in the memory
Fabric of my soul
I love you now
And forevermore
Until this heart
No longer beats:
I
am
Yours

The One

January 19, 2014January 19, 2014 ~ hiraethphoenix ~ Leave a comment

I know not what to do
This insepid fear
Hopelessness clinging
Onto me
I could surrender and let
It devour what is left,
A slow process love lost
Arrogance the theft
Here then I stand
Before you
Naked to your soul
Are you the one I thought
You are
Dreamed you are
(please be that for me
a safe place from this storm
If not – resentment will flourish
A beautiful love left in scorn)

Witness

January 19, 2014January 19, 2014 ~ hiraethphoenix ~ Leave a comment

If I witness you
In the spaces of what is here
Silently treading fear
Silently drawing near
If I forgive you
In the crevices of what is past
Silently treading fear
Silently drawing near
If I remind you
In the moments of what is now
Silently treading fear
Silently drawing near
If I love you
In the seconds of what is time
And stands still here:
Silently treading fear
Forever drawing near.

Introduction

January 14, 2014 ~ hiraethphoenix ~ 2 Comments

How often do things end in life and you wish for just one more conversation, one chance to say what you needed to say, ask what has been burning in your heart, and hear the other side of what it was really like, who you really were? Hiraeth and Phoenix choose to give each other that gift and what follows is a dialogue that cuts to the core of the reality they created and called their own.

All characters in this novel are entirely imaginary and any resemblance to persons living or dead or actual events is purely coincidental.