Separate Lives

inside the frame that housed
a portrait,
there was a smile,
one is yours
and the other mine.
beside the frame is a glass
where I sipped wine
the pen moving
over blue’s eloquence
a litany of faded memories
one is yours
and the other mine.

~Shy~

Sometimes I wish I had a pause button, so that I could just crawl into my fluffy bed and sleep for days. Of course I wouldn’t be avoiding anything because my dreams lately have all been infused with an air of nightmarish emotion. No horror or terror involved, just a gross accumulation of realized fears about my life and the people in it. I will not deny the fact that some of them are regretful. I try to live a life free from regret, so I guess they show through when my unconscious takes over. A lot of the dreams are just very sad, the kind where I nearly become a sedentary object, viewing people and actions as they occur around me while not being able to be a part of what occurs. In a way that is how I feel my real life has become. In the dreams it is like no one ever sees me and in the end I am left alone, staring at an empty scene. Even in a crowd of people, I am just a bystander. The pause button then, maybe is just the opposite of what I need. Perhaps instead of avoiding I need to act and confront, but I am just so tired of trying. For once I would like something to happen to me instead of me trying to make things happen.

If it is possible, I have entered a silent stage,
I am speechless,
a mutation of muteness has overcome me, and
I am left with a message that only time will tell.

~Shy~

To Be Noticed

I will peel the moon
with translucent sighs
and offer a song with a bag
of my delicate wishes
he may not hear it
nor gather the notes between his belly.
if moonbeams were stairs,
I shall climb them
to sit,
on the bedrock
of his gaze.

~Shy~