inside felicitys wishes i keep my habbits locked up tight,
wrapped in bags and shiney things.
in her i let our hair intertwine like it used to,
flow in knots.
words of past times scribbled in ink,
the recorded moments,
inside her pink walls and fraying wool
my people on rough paper push against her incasing,
she holds a world in her wings.
with the sun burning bright over her back, casting her small shadow,
i echo in time.
her elusive box shaped aura
a key to passer by's
wondering around lost in the lines of my hands,
as they wonder to her core
i find comfort in her,
her post-it nature is my note to self,
my reasurance.
i can open her up like a china doll,
piece by piece
hands, fingers, head and tones
i have a little box of precious things...she has a name, and shes talking to you.
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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i have seen this box...mwahaha
very nice i likes it xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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oooOOOooo
I like this, not your bestest, but definitely some brilliant bits. Little bits like
'I echo in time'
and
'my people burning against her incasing,
She holds a world in her wings.'
Purdy stuff Laura, I want a box like that, a box that lives! Haha =P
xXx
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heehee
im well chuffed with this one!
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p.s. the word intertwine is highly addictive!
Word of the month methinks -
Awww Bless
You are bloody adorable sometimes! Haha!
Yea, it's kwl it's actually grown on me a lot this poem =P -
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