Perhaps she was just the broken shards of self
dispersed on summer winds in naked abandonment
the shattered remains of soul
devoured by egos for the indulgent.
Perhaps she was petals, silk and smooth
fragrant, promiscuous the embodiment of lust,
a vivid rainbow of desire, teasing,
tantalising her prey with every thrust.
Or perhaps she was the breeze,
the rays of morning light
perhaps she was so delicate
she became lost within the night.
Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words
… And as the pale sun burned fiercely through wandering thoughts she tucked away the delicacies of her soul, ran her fingers through blush pink silken threads, muted green satin bows, gently stroked rich purple velvet and pressed delicate feathers to her lips. She closed Pandoras chest, not turning the key. Her secret? Beyond titanium lays the intricate threads of a candy floss soul. Rays of sun upon deep breaths tickling her tongue, she knew, with trust must come vulnerability… And as the pale sun burned fiercely through wandering thoughts she left the chest open,
knowing it was time…
Karen Hayward ©2017
Image found on pinterest.
Some days I beg the
mist to fall and
to swallow whole what
freedom I am afforded
I am not permitted.
To choke from me
my bitter tongue
that longs to spit
flames at your
To lay surrender
the pure essence
of my soul and sell
myself to the devils role
lost in vengeful wars
I shouldn’t fight,
Some days I do not
feel worthy of
these wings, or my
need to take flight.
I dash into the overgrown garden
to grab in drying washing as drops of
rain pebble across the pink fleece.
For a moment I pause and let the
coldness fall onto my face, eyes searching
the skies as this instinctual pleasure rises
in me. I must decide. The dry washing
or a moment spent in utter abandonment.
My soul wins again.
Karen Hayward ©2016