It echoes through the years.
Its hand slips down her spine and reaches up
through her body.
Its whisper haunts her like the touch of your hands.
She looks in the mirror and can see what life has worn away.
She can feel her wings unfold and fold against her naked skin.
Her sins and her sorrows fall like a dust and disappear.
Along the curves of her body
is the memory of your touch
and as she wakes to the songs…
those sweet songs remind her
and then the dreams come softly…
upon the lips…those lips..
of a ghost.
She wandered down the halls
catching glimpses of yesterday
and the hard and the gentle crush
floods her cells
like the sparkle of winter crystals
blooming in the windows made of frost
and the make believe becomes her shelter
from the storm,
that is her reality.
It makes her come alive,
leaving behind the pride
and being there,
spent as she is,
you fall into her arms as she falls into yours.
She’s stood strong for so long
and she’s waited for that moment
when she can close her eyes
knowing that when they open,
you’ll be standing there waiting on the other side.
She has lived with ~heaven~ in this tormenting hell.
She’s cried tears with her heart spilling out
into her hands
and has held it out to you
over and over,
her truest lover.
There is an echo whose fingers ripple
all the oceans she’s crossed.
An arrow that still pierces,
a lake of blood,
full of heart and soul,
full of the love…
and she drowns.
There’s those eyes,
pulling her spirit from that darkness
and there’s nothing that she lacks.
She won’t beg you to be that one true, once again
because the dragon is in you,
her fairy tale
but she still believes…