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Sarah Spang Jul 2015
Wakefulness has come to be
A pale respite, a poignant dream
Reality has paled and ceased
To be of real devoir to me.

Amongst the living, I trail the dead
That intone from the Netherlands
And in their voices, they do spread
The need to meet their languished hands.

There in the dusk's cerulean shores
Towards the night's sapphire core from
Whence winged creatures dart and soar
I sleep to leave what I abhor.

With Morpheus I cast aside
The shell from which by day reside
In chiaroscuro paradise
I lift my head to meet your eyes.

By day you're nothing, dust and ash
And memories that shall not last
By night, draw breath, return to me,
Come back to life within my dreams.



*Original, Un-rhymed Notes:

The waking world has become surreal
After everything that's happened
All things are a pale shade of what they used to be
Those that aren't here call out to me louder than the scores of the living
I feel them, carried with me
Clinging, pulling me back towards
dreams.

I see them there, whole and unscathed
Sarah Spang Jul 2015
If I could barter time itself
And make the past today,
I'd hand away the future
For parts of yesterday.

If I could trade my happiness
And pluck it from tomorrow,
I'd binge on what you brought to me
To stave off all this sorrow

If I could turn my back away
From my own form of nature
I'd hold the hallowed night away
To have the Sun forever.

*Once the day is done, it's gone;
No touching yesterday.
And only I can salvage smiles
From the wreck I've made.
Sarah Spang Jul 2015
Here I am, I'm breathless
And you, you're just the same.
My recollections failed to serve you
Justice once again.

The sight of you has chased away
The numbness of my limbs.
My beacon cheeks are fire bright;
My widened eyes; a-swim.

And everything is rushing back
And hanging on my lips,
Unspoken words that surge and rush
Like blood to fingertips.

I wish my eyes were ocean tides
That rose over and crashed,
So I could saturate your core
And make my presence last.

Oh, that those waves could draw you out
And pluck your from the shore
I'd carry you away with me
To where we were before.



*Original, Unrhymed Notes

Here I am, and I'm breathless
And you're just as I remember you
The sight of you has chased away the cold
And I'm a beacon, all flushed cheeks
And wide eyes
My coltish knees locking
And suddenly I cannot make the words
That will carry be across this
Invisible ocean
Break across you like an
all-consuming wave.
Sarah Spang Jul 2015
You are the sweetest of my torments.
You're the tangible torture of citrus
The bite followed by the ****
Fresh and unbearable in the same instance

You're the lemon zest scent;
Sultry, as I quarter fruit
In my hot summer kitchen.
You're the juice in the cut
As the knife knicks my thumb;
The sweetness meeting the wild coppery tang
of blood in my mouth.

You're in the twist in my chest
That exists somewhere between my heart and my stomach
Both organs being wrenched apart...
When I see your picture
And remember that we haven't spoken in months.
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Sarah Spang Jun 2015
If all I am's the landlord's daughter
High up in my room
Then you're the lonely Highwayman
That rides beneath the moon

Though, unlike Bess, the little death
I sought did not bring end
Not to our lives, but to our dreams
That rose so to descend.

My sacrifice was not my life
Lost somewhere in the dark
My method then of saving you
Was severing us apart.

For one to live a fuller life
The other must endure
A subdued sadness veiled beneath
Another’s cruel censure.


To keep you safe, I’ll bow my head
And watch on past your form
Knock on another’s doleful Inn
This Bess won’t cause you harm.

Ride on, my precious Highwayman
There’s nothing here for you
Your treasure lies beyond this Inn
A path you must see through.
Sarah Spang Jun 2015
Seldom though eventually
His words will wash away
The human mind's a yawning sieve
That siphons thoughts away

For all we are is flesh and blood
And dust, in all due time
His face embedded in my thoughts
Will someday leave my mind.

Each grain of sand; each thought of him
Will slither down the glass
Slow and steady, one by one
Until he's in the past.

For now my mind's a youthful cache,
No wave can wear or wash
Impressions left upon my soul
Cannot be staved or quashed.



-Un-rhymed Notes-

*Every once in a while
The human mind is all it's built up to be;
A sieve, where the balm of time
slowly mends and knits
The torn edges of the chasm.

Every once in a while
It is as if the wound has healed
And the flow of muscle memory
Ripples beneath the unmarred surface
Sarah Spang Jun 2015
Broken thing, little bird
Still your wings and heed my word
There's always time to fly again
So take a rest my weary friend.

Feel the wind rush through the leaves
Sway gently on the summer breeze
Slow your breath and end your song
My little bird, the day is long.

Oh, baby bird, my little crow
I love you more than you could know
Sleep sweetly, softly, precious one
The night has come, the day is done.
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