Dear Diary,

Dreams are all that I have now.

All that which keeps me alive.

During the day and at night.

The push I need to breathe again.

Simply put I am up in the clouds.

Far from this world yet tied down to it.

Cursed rules and expectations locks my pretty feet.

Hands tied up with stupid facades.

They feed me normality.

My body doesn't like that so I return it.

All that comes from me are small whispers.

Names of cities and my favourite stories.

The bright constellations and beautiful flowers.

Perfect tea and old world libraries.

Scent of the moon and sound of the ocean.

Winter breaths and summer giggles.

Love for you and love for me.

Bleeding Gods and their sad lovers.

Deep poems and sweet music.

I am filled with the things I love.

And everytime you burn my soul,

You make a star glow.

Everytime you silence my voice,

Thunder rumbles over the mountains.

And when you think you've put me to sleep,

Think again before the moon comes out.

I may be filled with all things sweet and soft and nice.

But I've learned to fight over the years.

I'll let my wolves hunt tonight.

And they won't rest until all your dreams become nightmares.

And watch how I hold you in there forever.

A slave to your mind till the end of time.

© Moonyloonywitch

02/09/2021

Do I wish for someone to look at me and think that I am the most beautiful painting they've ever seen?

Do I wish for someone to hold me oh so softly, afraid that they'll hurt me if the grip is even a little tight?

Do I wish for someone to think of how it would feel to kiss me, to be kissed by me?

Do I wish for someone to think of me when they see purple sunsets and orange dawns?

Do I wish for someone to tell me that they've been thinking about me the whole day?

Do I wish for someone sing to me and cuddle me to sleep?

Do I wish for someone who can't stop thinking about a beautiful future where we belong together?

Yes.

I wish that.

All of it.

But most days I wish someone would just smile at me.

in the softness of your voice, telling me that everything is going to be okay.

I belived, in the way your eyes sparkled when I smiled and hugged back.

I believed, that day on our porch, in the love that we shared.

And after so many more such beliefs, here I stand beside your grave. Not knowing what to do or where to go.

I believed you when you said we had an eternity.

We didn't.

You lied.

And I believed.

I believed

poem and photo by pangarina-angelin-a

Love is so strange.

It's different for different people.

And it's different during different seasons.

It was a summer afternoon in May,

when I loved someone for the very first time.

I felt like somebody had sprinkled fairy dust inside me.

It felt all tingly and sparkly and good in every way.

Then autumn came and it was September,

when you said you loved me for the first time.

I knew what butterflies felt like in my tummy.

A beautiful cool sensation, jittery yet so magical.

But soon after, winter visited as well.

I was left alone on the park bench,

in the midst of December,

while you held her hand and walked away.

The fairy dust of the summer,

started choking me up.

I ran home and closed the bathroom door.

And ended up puking all over.

I guess those were the butterflies I felt in Autumn,

now all dead and garbage.

As I waited for the winter to pass,

I dreaded the arrival of summer.

I didn't want no more fairy dust and butterflies.

All I wanted was to be me again.

To stop feeling dead and grey all the time.

It was February suddenly,

and I was walking to my favourite coffee shop.

I hadn't been there in a while,

and I missed it like anything.

Half way through my favourite book,

you stumbled upon me and fell.

We smiled and apologized,

and I extended my hand out to you.

It was when you grabbed my outstretched hand,

that I suddenly remembered spring existed as well.

© Moonyloonywitch

10/08/2021

I know I belong.

Here, between the spaces of your fingers, and the crook of your neck.

On your lips and in your eyes.

I've finally found a home far from any other.

The restlessness in me is slowly being put to sleep by your sweet voice, the soft tunes that fall from your lips heals the broken parts of me from within.

For once, the world feels so much more beautiful than it ever was.

Because there's you and there's me. And because that's all that I need.

For once, it's enough.

For once

Why does emptiness hurt so much,

when there is nothing for me to feel anymore.

Dragging my pale hands across the dirty walls,

I feel like giving up on everything.

I've lived on for so long,

hoping that someday everything would get better.

But that was just a lie I told myself,

because all that ever happened to me was blue.

From heartbreaks to heartbreaks,

I lived on hoping I would be free one day.

But turns out the way we live our lives,

is always predetermined before our births.

Stars and galaxies had perfectly aligned,

to make sure that luck never came my way.

All those times I felt like joys,

were simply mirages on my abandoned mind.

I wanted answers for so long,

but was afraid to come get them.

Now in the middle of the night I stand,

my heart feeling heavier than ever before.

My pale hands glides over the knocker,

and the sound of it makes the stillness scream.

Moonlight is the only comfort I have now,

as I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

The cold night air smells bittersweet,

but strangely it feels like home.

It is home.

Losing someone you love is hard enough,

but losing all of them together,

is the worst torture that a soul can suffer.

It's been years since I came home.

But I always carried it within me,

a burden that was uncalled for.

Now with the moon and the night as witnesses,

I gather every last ounce of life in me.

Calling home for the first time in years,

I am answered with a gentle breeze that caresses my cheeks.

Maybe they too missed me like I missed them.

Maybe I should've come sooner,

so that I could live a little longer.

But it doesn't matter now.

I call home after so long,

to let them know that I'll come soon.

It's just a matter of months, said the doctors.

But to me it feels like I have eternities to cross,

to finally be whole again.

Calling home for the first time in years,

I can't wait to be finally home again.

© Moonyloonywitch

12/08/2021

Phantom Limb

deep

in the

forest

of dreams

I come upon

your

resting place

a headstone

in the center

of a clearing

where all

my thoughts

of you

are buried

reverently

I touch it

to remind

myself

what

I have lost

Sometimes you meet someone.

And suddenly all your poems are about them.

I am tired of writing about you.

But I can't seem to write about anything else.

I can't make you perfect, because you're not.

Yet all the lines I have ever written are full of love.

For you, I guess.

Because ever since we met,

my heart has always spoken your name.

In whispers, and then as songs.

Now in paintings and poems,

your existence sprawls across the walls of my house.

I only realised that it was love,

when pastel yellows became too beautiful to ignore.

Stupid thing love,

making me wait and hope,

when all this time you never were here.

I feel like I am inside a snow globe,

enchanted to stay a happy sight forever.

But deep within the walls of my heart and soul,

the winter of your absence has turned an ugly grey.

The snow no longer pure and white,

but tinted with the fading colours of my heartbreak,

and the lost yellows of your smile.

Everything in this world has a place.

And more than often I feel like mine is beside you.

You tell me that you're loosing me a little bit each day.

How can I not feel lost, when you deny me of my home?

Where do I plant my heart, when you close the door to yours?

The worst battles of mine were about you, against myself,

being forever torn between wanting to stay and run away.

But as dawn approaches and the sun rises again,

I loose yet another fight.

I hope one day you can finally see me beside you.

One day, you will know that I've always been there.

That I never left, and never will.