lost
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A broken clock is correct twice a day. It strikes true.Its hands remain motionless.Gears, sprockets, jewels, springs—all frozen. You and me?Two pictures. The clock keeps timethe same way you and I do— twice a day,working,doing time.
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Lanterns Gone to Sea This morning came with plans and lines,A house to build, a roof to frame.The page held purpose, measured signs,Not quite the same as love, or flame,But something steadier, less to blame. I traced the framing joists by hand,The ink a kind of slow release,Each line a thing I understand,Unlike the words
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it is everythingi can dojust to feel the low humbuzzes behind my eyesand the tearsdo not ask permissionthey fall i wipesalt from my facewith the same handsi once usedto fold in prayer i promised Godi would hold on but i forgethow many timesi’ve promisedand unpromised he got me throughoncethat one timethat almost ended me and
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If I were dying,would you steal the last breathfrom the seam where sky kisses sea,pour it into my lungsand tell me lies sweet enough to dream by—then step into the fog,where I could only follow with closed eyes,holding you for a thousand nameless days? If I were crying,would you unthread my face from your memory,let
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“I will die. Morning arrived in a muted gray, the silence heavy, almost suffocating. I stood at the edge of our life together, fingers twitching with the impulse to reach out, to fix something already shattered. She had left in the night, returned without explanation. Her absence was a wound; her presence, a reminder
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“Trust, if it ever truly existed, hangs by a thread—a spiderweb filament stretched thin between two points: you and me. Once, we were tethered by chains forged in shipyards, strong and unyielding. Now, those chains have snapped, leaving us adrift, floating farther apart toward horizons we’ll never share.“ The rain falls softly outside, but
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“Like dewdrops that sparkle in summer’s warm rays On gossamer wings of a midsummer’s day,I tickled sweet Life, and her laughter took flight,Like wind-scattered petals that dance and sway,My heart bloomed crimson in morning’s soft light. But fortune’s wheel turned, and she drifted away,Her eyes became storms on a wind-ravaged sea.Through winter I wandered, lost
BB Grey--musings 