The Drowning Poet

19.05.16 01:19

You walked with a poet and she became intrigued

The way you’d calm her erratic spirit with a glance

It was almost like magic

She didn’t sprint away like her past always said she should


You ran with a poet and captured her interest

With soulful azure eyes you shattered her walls

It was like they’d never even existed 

You were the calm that stilled her storms


You lay with a poet and made your way into her bloodstream

And now your essence in her veins must become ink on paper

As she bleeds her precious words

In an attempt to extract you from within

While her soul sighs with practiced longing

For the vibrant muse that rescued the drowning poet


– Martie xx

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Newfound Freedom & Vibrant Hearts

29.09.15   16:16

Words always failed her when she tried to put her happiness to paper — pain, sorrow and lostness always had a more natural flow as it poured with ease from her fingertips, a comfortable world where she knew all the dark corners of her inner demons; of her sputtering heart and dead emotions. 

She does not know all the ins and outs of this newfound world of hers, where each day is as mesmerising and bright as a firework show — forever changing and expanding. Laughter now bubbles to her lips each day without effort, filling her up as she dares to walk blindly further into the spectacular show of colours, people and the unknown. 

Where black holes and numbness recided seedlings of life have taken deep roots, gradually expanding their territory, banishing the dark with a stubborn ferocity. 

She has stopped questioning her smiles, the easy arrival of her laugh, her whims and feelings — she still doesn’t understand them, and suspects she never will — instead she’s learned to let them out, let them fly. She has stopped pretending like she knows where she’s going; she threw away her broken compass that could never stop spinning in vicious self destructive circles, and dared to find her own road through trial and error — she is still wandering. 

A sensation of unbearable lightness has enveloped her as her wings rest against the soft surface of a white cloud above — with crossed legs she stares down at the faraway cities, the people she’ll never meet but still wish happiness upon, trying to decide where she’ll go next. The question remains unanswered, so for tonight she’ll take to the stars as she awaits the sunrise — as she awaits a soft breeze that will guide her to strangers with vibrant hearts; her next adventure.
– Martie xx