illusions of handholding

I get up

every mourning

to breaths of fresh air,

ran with my dog

in bottine avec talon

neighbours envious of

tight jeans and spunk

and no matter how many times

I leave, i always come back

to handwritten love notes.

Come back to

his grip,

he knows how to woo me

how to kill me with words

when he holds me

I close my eyes

remember the first time

our eyes and souls met

our bodies never lying.

Yet he disappears

when my voice carries 


he pretends i’m like the others

when my pain carries

splashes of colour

he never knew could mix together.

he knows it all

thinks i’m easy to manipulate

into sewn fabric

but i rip too easily

shrink when touched

melt in your mouth

and i can’t hold on

for much longer.

you’re stronger



and thus

i’m weaker

under the lies

 i do not trust

the truth.

It shifts

into reality.



  1. Eric Syrdal · November 23, 2015


    Liked by 1 person

  2. Chagall · November 23, 2015

    Love the couplet

    when my voice carries



    Liked by 2 people

  3. megdekorne · November 23, 2015

    ” but I rip too easily ” …me too Chrissy ….your poet soul so tender ….love , megxxx

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Carisa Adrienne · November 23, 2015

    This is spectacular ❤

    Liked by 2 people

    • Chrissy · November 24, 2015

      Thank you Carisa for telling me. x


  5. thelonelyauthorblog · November 23, 2015

    You are amazing. Beautiful

    Liked by 2 people

  6. paully1965 · November 24, 2015

    Stunningly beautiful Chrissy..

    Liked by 2 people

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