Jaded. Fragmented. Fallen.
Always Rising.

Saturday, October 22, 2005
09:59 a.m.
i have taken out my contacts
and now come to you in glasses,
swept up hair falling gently onto my shoulders,
and lukewarm peppermint tea.
last night i drank caffine until eleven o' clock
and thought nothing of it.
today i've been wrapped up in your words and letters.
the papers litter the floor
but my heart is clean and pure-
painted with the colors only you can create.
i'm left breathless
as if you stole my soul away.
only upon further examination,
i realize it's still here
it's just singing your name.
and the melody is one i've been dancing to for years.
please come find me.
whispering in the night, only makes my voice hoarse
and my body ache for you
and the love that might be-
fierce. passionate. consuming.
the idea flowing over me like the candle's wax
in the flicker of the pale light.

i never did like the plasticness of fluorsecent.

and you only illuminate that thought,
as you do many others.
and i'm struglling to reach you.
stretch these branches into your mind
so that you can wake and see me standing here.
on your doorstep
with a blue binder and a crying kitten
that needs a home to be love in.

like many of us,
she's fallen frum the ground
and can't seem to look up.
-alysia-

Friday, October 21, 2005
06:58 p.m.
a shirt turned inside out.
just one of the many things
littering her soul.
And she's begun again-
dancing.
singing softly to the beat of her heart.

she can feel the angles of her mind
falling softly
to the colors
of lavender and rose.
the pixies have long left
to fill another void
in the path sumwhere.

gravel, and stone
the dirt barely graces ehr feet
as she steps gingerly
out onto the wing
of a butterfly.
-alysia-

Friday, October 21, 2005
06:57 p.m.
Thru his words
she can still see his soul.
tho they were penned years ago
she still knows the man
that formed them.
still feels his warmth in the middle of the night
and the way he'd smile at her.
tho the images
and circumstances
have long stood in their way.
obstacles
have yet to uplift them.
The game
was called on account of rain,
and yet,
standing there
soaked to the soul
she lifts up her mind
and sees him standing there.
soft green sweater.
faded blue jeans.
same as ever.
and yet never the same.
-alysia-