Lullabies (6 page)

It seems as though now,

you forgot every word;

in a field full of flowers,

she was the first.

There once was a song

you reminded her of
—

she no longer longs,

yet she still loves.

Two Fishermen

A girl came upon a fisherman at the water’s edge and watched as he cast his net into the wide, open sea. On closer inspection, she noticed how all the knots that usually held a net together were unknotted.

“Why do you throw a knotless net into the water?” she asked.

“I want to catch all fish in the ocean,” he replied. “But there are none I wish to keep.”

She walked on a little further and came across another fisherman, holding a simple line. She studied him quietly as he reeled his catch in, before returning it to the water. After he repeated this several times, the girl asked him, “Why do you catch them just to throw them back?”

“There is only one fish I want to catch and so, no other holds my interest.”

Shipwrecks

The wild seas for

which she longed,

lay far beyond

the shore.

The shipwreck that

her lips had sung,

meant she never

left at all.

It wasn’t ’til

the tide had won,

that she learned

it could not hurt her.

It was the furthest

she had gone
—

and she never went

much further.

An Artist in Love

I drew him in my world;

I write him in my lines,

I want to be his girl,

he was never meant as mine.

I drew him in my world;

He is always on my mind;

I draw his every line.

It hurts when he’s unkind.

I drew him in my world;

I draw him all the time,

but I don’t know where

to draw the line.

False Hope

I don’t know if I want you, he says. But I do know I don’t want anyone else to have you.

It wasn’t good enough, I knew that. Honestly I did. In my mind it was crystal clear. My heart however, was having a serious case of selective hearing. All it heard was,
I don’t want anyone else to have you.
And within that
—
was a glimmer of hope, a spark of optimism.

A Cautionary Tale

There is a girl who never returns her library books. Don’t give her your heart
—
it is unlikely you will ever see it again.

Afterthought

Thoughts I think of presently,

will come and go with ease
—

while thoughts of you, from long before,

have yet to make their leave.

The memory of you and I,

still finds me here and now;

tomorrow has arrived and gone
—

yet your voice to me, resounds.

For if my present were an echo of,

a past I can’t forget
—

Then these thoughts are just

an afterthought
—

and I am always in its debt.

Grounded

The little birds

who dream of flight;

who gaze into

the starry night.

Their tired wings

fold down and up;

they try their best

but it is not enough.

The Very Thing

I often wonder why we want so much, to give others the very thing that we were denied. The mother working tirelessly to provide her child with an education; the little boy who was bullied in school and is now a Nobel Prize-winning advocate for peace. The author who writes happy endings for the characters in her book.

Forewarned

If a boy ever says, you remind me of someone
—
don’t fall in love with him. You will never be anything more than second best.

Mixed Messages

The questions you had never asked

were things you were afraid to know;

everything that has come to pass,

you’ve made them all up on your own.

There are many words you never said,

that others dreamed you someday would;

each of us for all our days
—

will live our lives misunderstood.

Masquerade

As a writer, there is an inclination to step inside someone else’s shoes, to get under their skin and see the world through their eyes. In many such scenarios, I have slipped into these roles with the greatest of ease
—
then out again with the same dexterity.

That was until I found myself in character, playing the girl who falls in love with you. It was then the line between fantasy and reality were so blurred that I no longer knew who I was.

Yet, there was clearly a point when my role was well and truly over. When I had gone above and beyond the required word count. Where I had exhausted every new angle or approach there was to writing our story.

I know it’s over, I really do. I know it has been for quite some time. It’s over, yet my heart still feels you. You are a memory to me now, but my mind still thinks of you. What we had was finished long ago
—
yet the words will not stop flowing.

Change of Heart

You were faultless

I was flawed,

I was lesser

yet you

gave more.

Now with time,

I find you

on my mind
—

Perhaps I loved you,

after all.

Reasons

I wish I knew why he left. What his reasons were. Why he changed his mind.

For all these years, I have turned it over in my head
—
all the possibilities
—
yet none of them make any sense.

And then I think, perhaps it was because he never loved me. But that makes the least sense of all.

All There Was

My greatest lesson learnt,

you were mine until you weren’t.

It was you who taught me so,

the grace in letting go.

The time we had was all
—

there was not a moment more.

Pen Portrait

She doesn’t keep time,

so she stopped wearing watches.

Her promise won’t bind,

so no one holds her to them.

She lives in the past,

so her present never catches
—

Her thoughts do not last,

so her pen must tattoo them.

Musical Chairs

When the music stood still, I was standing at an empty chair.

I could feel you smiling behind me. (We sense these things while dreaming.)

Your hands were on my shoulders, your kisses against my neck.

Then from somewhere, the music of a piano as she sings to Mozart, no one will ever know me the way you do.

Tell Me

Tell me if you ever cared,

if a single thought

for me was spared.

Tell me when you lie in bed,

do you think of something

I once said.

Tell me if you hurt at all,

when someone says

my name with yours.

It may have been so long ago,

but I would give

the world to know.

Beach Ball

Do you know that feeling? When it’s like you’ve lost something but can’t remember what it was. It’s as though you’re trying so desperately to think of a word but it won’t come to you. You’ve said it a thousand times before and it was always there
—
right where you left it. But now you can’t recall it. You try and try to make it appear and it almost does, but it never does.

There are times when I think it could surface
—
when I sense it at the tip of my tongue. When I feel it struggling to burst from my chest like a beach ball that can only be held beneath the water for so long.

I can feel it stirring each time someone hurts me. When I smile at a stranger and they don’t smile back. When I trust someone with a secret and they betray me. When someone I admire tells me I am not good enough.

I don’t know what it is or what I have lost. But I know it was important, I know it once made me happy.

Amends

I wonder if there will be a morning when you’ll wake up missing me. That some incident in your life would have finally taught you the value of my worth. And you will feel a surge of longing, when you remember how I was good to you.

When this day comes I hope you will look for me. I hope you will look with the kind of conviction I’d always hoped for, but never had from you. Because I want to be found. And I hope it will be you
—
who finds me.

The Most

You may not know

the reason why,