Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Cuttlefish Ink

In the coldest way
I've spoken to sunshines
And merries
With sparkles
Trailing behind
To their birth

I'm open
To their ignorance
Of dark streets
And matter
How the winter seeps
Into the bones
The darkness
A treasured friend
That slips through
Frosty fingers
To come
Face to face
With a bitter enemy
In harsh light
Bright light
Rose colored lenses
Can't obscure

I appreciate
The sunshines
The merries
And their sparkles
But they will
Never know
Could they?

My world in
Cuttlefish ink

The delicious beauty
Of cold sidewalks
Yellow street lamps
Empty avenues
Discarded litter
The sleeping homes
Devoid of life
Snoring away
While I walk
Into the night

Copyright © Allene Angelica 2016

Only Strangers Can Hear

I hate watching
Sad movies
I think because
For all the times
I held it together
For all the times
I didn't shed a tear
All the times
I stayed strong
And hid all my fears

It explodes
In the dark
The giant screen
Witnessing my shame
I always try
To make sure that
No one is near
When it starts

My two hour gushing
Waterfall of pain

I'm truly thankful

I am

That only strangers
Can hear the rain

Copyright © Allene Angelica 2016