I remember the first time I saw your striking blue eyes.
You were walking past me and for some reason our eyes met.
My awkward hazel met your beautiful ocean blue.
Usually I am afraid of meeting eyes, but for the life of me I couldn't look away.

I remember looking at your eyes while you laughed with your friends, mocking me for something I had done.
For some reason, I was still in love with your beautiful ocean blues.

I remember dancing.
I remember looking over and there you were with your beautiful blue eyes.
Even though nothing could get your attention off the bass, the dancing and the powder running down your sinuses and the pills dissolving in your stomach,for some reason, you couldn't keep your beautiful ocean blues off of me.

This time, the tables had turned.
It was you longing for my awkward hazels, and me acting oblivious to your beautiful ocean blues.
As if they didn't make my heart race and my knees tremble everytime I got a glimpse of them.

But soon you will forget my awkward hazels, and I will be left longing for your beautiful ocean blues.
- 4 / 08 / 15 Catherine Roussouw

Oh, when I was in love with you
Then I was clean and brave,
And miles around the wonder grew
How well did I behave.

And now the fancy passes by
And nothing will remain,
And miles around they'll say that I
Am quite myself again.

Don't get lost in my eyes
I don't want you there,
Don't steal a kiss
It's mine, and wouldn't be fair,
And don't you dare take my heart,
It would be foolish to start
And then would just hurt
In a hole filled with air
And then I'd be empty
And you wouldn't care
So stay out of my head,
**I don't want you there

not here, here, here

-eyes closed-

a bath rub filled with bubbles
shaped like balloons rising in the air
her heart cut open, she can’t preclude
the secret nature of her love

and, he loved her, he loved her
he watched her every ballet she danced
a butterfly moving on tiptoes
tripping the light en pointe with
painted pale lips, winged eyeliner
silk Lacroix corset and feathered tutu

performing Swan Lake
at the Palais Garnier
the promised faery tale ballets
graceful movements to Tchaikovskys’s
compositions, telling the story of Odette
drowning in the lake falling to her fate

-KNOCK-

not here, here, here

-eyes open-

his voice; Laurier
her soul; punctured by her lover
a locked bathroom door
she kisses away her melancholy madness

not here, here, here*

© Sia Jane

i spit my love like seeds from a watermelon. my mother tried to teach me differently once, teach me that love was giving away the fleshy bits of yourself; my father tried to lead by example, baring the hairline cracks in his pride whenever she threatened to leave. i don’t take after either one of them (i never did.) i could never give myself away completely, like my mother. but i could never keep completely to myself, like my father. i tried — oh god, how i tried. but the dam of my ribs couldn’t hold back all that love forever, nor would it dare burst. my feelings leak out in spurts. so small, so fast, you could miss them if you blinked (and you wouldn’t be the first.) i used to collect them in a jar. now i just roll them in wads of paper & shoot them at your head.

you think i hate you.

Mother is on the move
Today
Mother is making new choices
Today
Mother is cherishing her
Daughter today
Mother is being mother
Something men take for granted
Today I'm being mother
Not some stage act
Or stage map.
Mothers work
Not needing a job
We choose to work
For our daughters
And families
We are mother's,
We are something not just part of man's extra ribs.
We are mothers:
I'm part of something big.

In empty pages and stark contrast the storm chased away the weak now alone I stand.
The hero a pawn truth cast aside for others cause .
We embrace solutions where  no problems exist.

May the colors run red from forgotten cause and history be erased for the sake of all that must be forever mundane.

I wish only to drag you to the depths and leave you to linger where nothing but a child's logic can remain
In spider webs we threw are thoughts now tangled the words left to wither in passing days.

May we dance in empty halls to illuminate the shadows and create the ghosts for others to place there hopes of what never shall be again.

To silence the voice is but closing the chapter  to spite the clear view .
Nothing stands a statue for the promise of tomorrows decay and the ******* will parade there ignorance as the simple minded spread a plague to which we are losing this battle.

I write for no one to read and all to judge.
Where's the laughter now the jester  is asked in ruins of a kingdom now simply reduced to ruble.

I remember what you will never taste and you may judge but waters tasted pure beats the stolen verses and burrowed lines of a time I no longer care to understand.


And Time passed me as it will pass you just the same .

May the silence remind you of that which never was to be.

We all will know this place someday.