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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2186721
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2186721
She called forth her courage. The evocation of a wandering spirit. [32]
Her chest rises & falls every day,
ever so delicately & without effort.
She stares into the distance,
the dreamer that she has always been.

Her mind takes her places,
moves oceans.
She catches sight of him behind her eyes.
Her breathing shallows.

The shutters that shield her mind close softly.
In a flash she was out of her hiding place.
Glass shattered & those soul windows burst with just
the sheer thought of him.

I can tell that she knows.
She knows now, noone on this Earth will ever see her.
Specifically, the way that he sees her.
Exposed.

Stripped, wearing nothing but her soul in her eyes,
adventure in her bones.
And her heart allbeit misplaced - it's there.
She's got it on her sleeve.

In the haze between street signs & sunrise,
right in the middle of someone else's jacket & one shoe in her handbag.
Between the words in her blood & that ink in her veins.
It's all there on paper.

Her heart bled over each page.
It's in who you want standing next to you when your dreams become real.
It's for those who come to teach us lessons;
And for those who come to teach us to feel.

In all honesty, it's whatever starts a forest fire in your soul.
Eject negative mass;
Over & Over.
Call it Supernova.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2186721