You can paint me in colours as you see fit
My reputation is on a stage for all to view
The damage is done so should I just quit
Or just sit back and let you all stew
I’ve never been a quitter I always thrive
But now my heart is a vast tangled mess
Is it really living if you just survive
Just because others say so should I expect less
Battling between my mind and soul
Love shouldn’t be this chaotic and scattered
There was a time when we made each other whole
Now everything we know has been shattered
Please don’t give up on me just yet dear
I will always rise from the hottest of flames
Don’t let them turn you against me in fear
In the end we will be stronger if we can’t be the same
~ The Incidental Scribe
You see me. As I stand in this crowded space with everyone clamouring for attention, you don’t just look at me you see me.
The instant you walk in the room I feel you. It’s like an instant connection, your soul calls to mine. Mine responds and in that instant the rest of the world slips away.
This isn’t love. I’m not some school girl who has a crush. This is deeper, this is two hearts beating perfectly in time. Two souls dancing together to music no one else hears. Two beings trying to remember some part of a past life that has bound them together.
In reality the party is over, the music has died, the lights are on and everybody is leaving. As the one I am here with hands me my coat and your partner grabs your arm, you cast me one last glance. The moment is over and although I try to grasp it one more time. There is no going back. We’ve past the point of no return.
Our time is done.
Did you feel the same thing? Or did I imagine it all? I’ll never know… reality trumps the dream. You have your life and I have mine. Our souls may meet again, but in this life they must be apart. Our hearts are spoken for. The next time we run into each other please don’t look at me.
As the sun sets her weary head and the moon prepares his brightest smile
It is between these phases of the day that I contemplate life for awhile
My soul wants to run like a lupine to gnash its teeth and howl at the moon
To dance over streams and prowl through the forest but the sun she awakes too soon
The night calls to me like a vampire softly begging me to come and play
And why not I ask when I work all night and sleep my life away all day
My heart it yearns for adventure to escape along cool foggy streets
Or perhaps just a wild passionate thrill ride between some black silky sheets
The supernatural and dark appeal to me with their mysterious and twisted ways
As twilight comes every fiber of my being prepares for our favourite time of day.
Because I know when my feet are weary and my mind decides it’s time to roam
I can always follow the raven he knows just how to lead me home
~The Incidental Scribe
Frustrating annoying confusing to say the least
We go through these vicious cycles once a year a month or week
You never know with me when the time bomb is gonna blow
With you I sit here wanting you to talk but waiting for you to go
Then it’s like the winds shift and the storm we are battling ends
We are back to being lovers companions and most importantly best friends
I am compassionate considerate caring and kind
You are focused on us and for a few fleeting moments will say what’s on your mind
But is this love enough because beyond our horizon the storm rears its head
The moments gone the wind picks up and we are back in hurricane season I can feel the dread
I tell you to brace yourself because I don’t want either of us to get swept over the edge
You hold my hand say we’ve been through a storm like this before and we’re gonna make it again
~ The Incidental Scribe
What can one write in three minutes, that can be worth anything.
If only I could stop the clock and buy myself some more time. Yet the challenge of leaving three minutes worth of thoughts here appeals to me.
I am thinking about my walk to work and how different nights at a fast food chain can be depending on the night of the week.
And with that three minutes are over. I’m sad to see them go.
Time never stops it keeps on growing
Even when these old bones are screaming and moaning
Life should be lived like it’s a wild ride
There are way too many things I want to do before I die
Another year passes and I’m working the grind
Can’t escape the routine it’s gonna eat me alive
Little steps do something new everyday
So when my time comes I can say I did it my way
~The Incidental Scribe
Oh yes, I can take off years, but are you really seeing me. Does this face tell the story of my life or the experience you should see? What if I was to tone it down? How would the next picture be?
More lines and blemishes still this could take a while. I’m not made of plastic or a painting with Mona Lisa’s smile. What if there was no filter? Would I still be in style?
There are my laugh lines and freckles, all the things that make me real. This is the face that does not let others say how I should look or feel. So ladies if you’re with me stop these beauty ills.