BILLIE KRISHAWN
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Billie's BLOG
POEMS, MONOLOGUES, JOURNAL ENTRIES & EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN

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7/8/2019

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FRAGMENTS

Down days...
Loneliness grows on my limbs
like vines waiting to bear fruit.
My breather plays out melodies
no longer left to be sung. //
My skin does remember though.
Subtle pulsing beneath fingertips
eager to claim stake
in what has been theirs well before
the beginning.
Let my curves belt your praises,
May my body dance a song 
written out just for you.
My knees know the lyrics
& this heart can keep tempo.
You just have to promise me that
this tune won't fall on deaf ears.
'Cause I don't have it in me
to pick up half notes scattered from the ground. //
'Cause I don't have it in me to collect fragments of myself
from the ruins of your absence.
Remember...
Pieces only have value
if they have purpose. 
So...
until you have room for me,
I will simply remain here //
Replaying the possibilities...
Hoping one day this song
will be more than just
    ||the melancholic melody of my mind.
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7/8/2019

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Picture
Journal entry free sketches
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7/8/2019

1 Comment

 
RENAISSANCE

I can’t seem to remove the violet of your lips from my bedsheets.
Your fingertips remain to be the paintings my skin refuses to shed.
The imprint of your thighs linger around in my mind,
I can’t seem to shake the shape of our hands intertwined
Double takes won’t replace the broken and battered lace who we were is trimmed with.
I can’t erase the places I’ve been through you …
My recollection is me holding on to pieces that should be mine to claim.
At night the heat we are created in is … violent.
No longer sweet treats within delightful melodies,
Where have we gone?
Cause I can only find traces of you and me here.
Yet can’t even shake the thought that it’s time to stop pretending.
This happy song was not supposed to have an ending ..
Bittersweet, to feel the defeat that lies mute between you and I.
We weren’t supposed to let time stop us,
And yet ever so consistently the sand slips between our fingers
Falling into the bottom of your hour glass.
I’m so tired of being in between this makeshift reality of you and me
Just let me lay here.
Just let me lay here and find truth despite the insecurities.
       ||Let me lay here and find my way back to you.


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    Freelance writer: poetry, spoken word, playwright, screenwriter. Here to share the writing that frees me on a day-to-day basis.

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  • Home
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