that's mrs. mediocrity to you

for seventeen years
we’ve been crossing bridges
as we’ve come to them

sometimes together

sometimes separately

sometimes meeting in the middle
from opposite sides

always finding our way home

to hold hands in the dark
watch the moon dancing with the stars
warm our toes by the endless fire

we’ve been here

there

and back again

it all started
on a bridge

from one heart
to the next

spanning years

as together
we watch it
flow

.

Happy Anniversary, Mr. M

She’d spent her entire life dancing on the edge of perfection, cutting hands and face and feet on the razor-thin precipice of need. Growth occurred, but randomly, and in all sorts of crazy directions.

The light was always what attracted her, when it was the dark she should have been reaching for. Everyone knows that all the real truths lie hidden in the shadows.

But she avoided the gloom like a child afraid of the monster beneath her bed.

She just wanted her moment in the sun.

When it came, she was surprised to see how many scars she had acquired along the way.

Even so, she tilted her face up and she smiled, opening her arms to embrace the warmth upon her skin.

.

.

.

Linking up with the New World Creative Union’s  Wednesday Wake Up Call. Join us!

split and peeling,
cracked and scarred

still, it’s not that hard
to look
beauty
in the eye
on the days when
all around you
defeat is the ritual
of rising

and death sits
just left of the sun
right where you always
thought he’d be

though it isn’t fear
you see on the face
expected to be
so ugly

just the kaleidoscope
of promise
glinting off
the corner
of dawn
giving you
one more chance
to get it

right

.

Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night, join us!