Said Rosie to Jim

There were riddles and rhymes in our past,
And the streets were littered with gold,
A litany of laughter licked our wounds,
And sunset was put on hold.
We danced on nimble feet,
Through dark forests and faraway lands,
From summer clifftops owned by Gods,
We made our secret plans.
We crafted lives together,
In dim-lit hotel rooms,
We had baby-names and imaginary games,
And a future in full bloom.

But we were still children then,
Where forever meant today,
I willingly showed my soul to you,
And with you it chose to stay.
You were the very bones of me,
But trust must take its toll,
Without you I’m just skin and blood:
A real-life rag-doll.
So I tar the past with tears,
And I stick to nighttime now,
To look on life through knowing eyes,
And walk with my head bowed.

Perpetually searching for some cliched sense of belonging I have thrown myself to various winds. Usually with the dreariest of consequences. Sometimes this results in poetry. Sometimes.

Last updated June 21, 2016