Lost treasure

Sometimes I feel like I spend so much time being lost, that the prospect of being found again has become like a faded sun to me. It has perhaps even become unwanted now, because there’s a comfort in the not knowing and the uncertainty.

It is dark underground and I am buried alive, by false convictions and promises. I do not want to find the ‘X’ on the map, because I want to be the X. To come full circle, to finding myself, digging through the tonnes of sand and grasping my own hand, to pull me out. And there, in the fresh, non-stifling air, I would walk, linked only with myself – my new love – to adventures new.

Picture can be found at http://www.flickr.com/photos/electrichamster/96531540/

Nectar

Bee on flower, originally uploaded by PIXNOIZE.

The bees are drunk on drinking flowers,
And you are gone and upside down,
And I, I've been up for hours.

The canvas

If I could paint a picture of what you were to me,
The canvas would remain white
And I’m not sure of what you’d see.
It would look rather empty,
With no colour, sketch or form,
A simple square, made for art
No Picasso here be born.
For you, my sister, are beyond colour
And no drawing will quite capture
Your smile, your laugh, your kindness here
And in this I take rapture.
For your subtleties and various ways
Were beautiful enough
To paint my days.

Hara-kiri

My mind flickers obsessively between you and her.
She who is forever lost, and you who's lost in forever.

Once upon a sky...

When it’s really cold, does the sky freeze up and trap the stars under a tight glassed film, like fish under a frozen, winter pond?

Les escapades des yeux

The curve of your eyelash could be likened to the rounding of an ink black sky against a night's horizon.

Tides

Lost in a thought, originally uploaded by AzRedHeadedBrat.

Each soul is anchored by their own thoughts and I wonder who will surface, and who will drown.