Come find me on…

With the school holidays coming to an end I will finally (hopefully) now be able to start making teeny tiny bird size steps towards taking my writing and blog in my chosen direction. This starts by letting you guys know of the different places you can find and interact with me. So, come find me on….now, i’m told I should do this often. I should self promote and scream about the different places that you can discover and interact with me….i’m crap at this, so instead this post is created roughly every six months, so here it is, the different spaces on this amazing web of infinity to which you can find me. Wordpress is such a great place for blogging and I do love it. However it is completely pants as an interactive platform and for this reason me and my lovely writing can also be found on…google plus

I also have a facebook page just for my blog,

 

 

and you can also put up with my ramblings over on twitter.

 

🙂 Karen…

Darkest Light.

Photo
Darkest Light

Consuming
and all drowning
my essence of night.
Deepest blue,
darkest burgundy,
it matters not,
my essence is cloaked
in this state, this void.
Think not of my night
and my aura as negative
for a dark state
can be a canvas.
A blank page for
something bright
to create. . .something
bright to form
my nights’ sky
and give it character.
and make it
come alive.

Yet it should consume me.
Darkness such as the night sky
should devour me, swallowing
my essence into oblivion.
Do you see me?
I am a mere whisper
of light lost in the echos of time. Yet,
when you lay me upon
your dark essence,
your canvas
becomes my art.
Your depth is my contrast.
I tip toe through your darkest blues
leaving illuminated kisses.
My essence, glimmers and glistens
upon your touch, for my light. . .
is love,
created by your darkness.

Words & Image
©5-2017 Locthiese/Karen Hayward

Check out more work crafted by the multi-talented Loc Thiese by clicking here.

Kisses on the dawning sun.

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As your alarm rings,
I would reach out
my hand to your skin,
grasp at your fingers,
embrace the last of
your sleep that lingers.
I would swallow down
my souls tug and use a
smile to hide my frown.
My lips would eagerly
devour the warmth of your
essence, kissing, greedily
the canvas of your form.
I’d curse the shortness of night
and the coming of morn.
I’d search the depth of your eyes
for a moment’s need sustained,
love spilling as the endless skies
passion radiating, desire burning
alarm ringing, bodies entwining,
souls yearning, I’d kiss you,
good morning.

Karen Hayward (c) 2017

A trail of massacre in my wake.

redhairwings

Menstruating blood seeps through the

cracks of my hormones plunging me into the depths

of normality, to be female, so easily led by useless

emotions that spill across cheeks.

A jolt into reality to see what you see,

instead you show me the tainted

pages that already haunt my thoughts.

Aneath the crimson onslaught

I tear your soul from

words fought,

I leave a trail of massacre in my wake.

I leave a trail of massacre in my wake.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Words and image.

Every Track Leads to the Devil.

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I lost my battle of innocence,
by choice,
It was my voice.
Lost my angelic-ness,
This is my mess.
I am tainted,
too late to go back.
What if i’m wrong,
and this is the devils track?
No difference,
It never is,
No one will truly call me his.

Karen Hayward ©2014 (edited 2017)

Image and words

Touch me, make me bloom.

Photo

Just as the rose,
with her luscious crimson
petals that peel open
before the Sun,
I peel open for you.
My flushed petals curling outward,
my colour, fluid and vi-
brant upon your words.
My floral fragrance
disperses upon your intent.
My blossom awaits your
touch and when I think
I am in full bloom,
my petals become a
little plumper, my colour a little deeper and my scent
becomes your very own personal pheromone,
answering to your
primal calls.

Karen Hayward (c)2017

Image and words.

Even as you sleep….

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Even as you sleep I feel you

clawing through the external

essence of my mind…Did i say clawing?

No more like freely walking,

my doors are unlocked,

my walls are down,

you need only ask and my every

answer is yours. Encapsulated within

your essence, lost deep in your intentions,

you have me ensnared within your grasp.

I am yours.

My desire is yours.

My need is yours.

My fantasies i give to you freely entwined

with my dark sensual self…Even as you sleep

I feel your essence taking what is yours as your

spirit wanders freely through my mind’s darkest corridors.

Karen Hayward ©2017