DaisyChains28

Even the strongest voice can shatter. The days wear-out holes in sweater sleeves and we release dreams like leaves that scatter. ~ Here, there, it doesn’t matter. Tired sneakers look for refuge but, even the strongest voice can shatter. ~ While blotting out the useless chatter. Our minds rest in places beyond window panes and release dreams like leaves that scatter. ~ Your wild gray eyes are as mad as a hatter. Only her words will calm shot nerves, yet, even the strongest voice can shatter. ~ Rain drowns the rooftops with a soft pitter-patter. Whispers under covers go uninterrupted and we release dreams like leaves tha

Years pass. Phases come in and out of focus as coats grow heavier and sleeves become shorter. Sometimes even your hair, wispy and fine before, now choppy and darker at the roots with every day that passes. You still recognize yourself in the mirror, your reflection doesn't seem startled, nor does it jump with hands over mouth as the faucet runs hot water. You're not a stranger but a companion. Cold hands touch a familiar face that changes, yes, but so slowly that no one can recognize the ripple of sink water. No even you. Only when you find decrepit pictures in hidden drawers and under beds. Or when the radio sings wi

 "When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on." -Franklin D Roosevelt No matter how many warnings you get about preparing for the bad days that arise in the cracks of life, you never get used to the feel. Impossible to hide from and no way to avoid them, we've learned to cope and endure. Suddenly, the "hang in there" and pat on the back from a humble passerby become brave words and tokens of understanding. Maybe, when considering how many times people have sighed and exhausted an "I've been there" to a friend or stranger, we have all been in each other's shoes, one way or another. Think about it. Many of us have fill

I heard a painful cry one night. I covered my ears in an attempt, to make better the damage that was done. What I hadn't realized, was the fact that cries and screams...sobs, are wounded, are broken, are collapsed. I should have, at least, attempted to heal and to mend, to re-build that painful cry I heard. But because I was afraid, I didn't reach out, never searched. Never wanted to think again. Because my mind would always wander, back to the sound of desperation. A tainted voice that shattered. That cry was human. The sound of a last resort to seek help and alleviate injured parts. Why couldn't I understand, that I was

Untouched. Then unravelled at an instant when I realized... I was homesick. So in love with the home I used to have, the fragile sanctuary disguised as riots on concrete benches. A fast-paced trial of experiments, all ending in a wonderful disaster of shoves and sarcasm. Seven heads turned to notebook paper and black ink. Feelings easily shattered. To millions of pieces. Embrace the feelings of coming undone at the remembrance of laughter. Sides stung from their memories. Seven of us flinching at a loud noise. Instinctively scooting closer. So close, the outside of our legs were pressed together. Denims and warmth. Somet