Dressing Up A Heart Her Own

She sips smokey whiskey on the roof - playing dress up in black leather boots and a red beret. She wishes it was summer so that she could stay and bask in the sunlight as time wasted away. Instead, she slips inside and lays on the hardwood floor while she writes love poems to match the January weather…

🖤

Numbing this-cosmic and contrived-ego by a fireside-nodding heads and rolling reds-floral on the tip of my tongue-satisfied-drowning out-day dreams with shaking floorboards- A Modelo modeled mind-starry eyed-by design-for a soul who doesn’t have a clue yet

💕

I see your eyes dissect me from a distance… We dance under the distorted lens of half-truths and hooded stares. I gaze through eyelashes, my ears ringing, an odd feeling. Watching your lips move as new eyes seek my features, like a creature for your discovery. So I dare you. Come catch me. Under neon cafe streetlights or cosmic veneers. Come ask me… if I dance in your same atmosphere

- Breathless.

🌈

Maybe - I’m a strange shade of lover… That’s fine by me, you see I have been stuck somewhere between wonder and why... Somewhere between red and the violet violent sky... Visions of what could be love - not impossible as once rose buds even reside under earth - unseen yet growing slowly. Done fighting tides in a mind well worn by thorns dipped in self-doubt only I see. Finding I’m too old to be playing pretend anymore and yet playing dress up every day for my own sanity. Now I find myself validating my heart’s own valet without vanity. Accepting that my interior may be strange, maybe you will love it anyway? Looking out at a less hazy view of a private play... A spotlight waiting for the right today?

Maybe it will be tomorrow…