Who will listen

I wander time to time
to that lonely
room of despair
but you are not there.
Just timeless words
left now to rot
gathering the dust
of moments taken
moments lost.
He doesn’t understand
yet the curvatures
of our reality, yet tries,
but what does it
matter when you are
lost to the skies.
You were the harshest
of lessons that I had
to learn, and I was
the friendship
that you had to earn.
Now who do I tell?
Who listens now?
Oh I hear your echo
I hear your shout,
Even now that you’re
not about…
Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found on wordpress

Candy floss soul… 

… 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. 

All the things I never knew, I never knew.

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I didn’t know that
love wasn’t
the drowning
of desire,
The suffocating
of need,
The blanketing
of lust.

I never knew
Love was
compromise
beyond myself,
or that sacrifices
shouldn’t
hurt.
I never knew
that love
was strength.

I didn’t know
love could be
anything
other than
weakness,
that the body
held value
or that my voice
was a treasure.

I never knew
I deserved,
that I could be
that I was,
that I am
that I will be,
I never knew.

I didn’t know love
wasn’t the silent
punishment,
the hateful glares
and egg shell
carpet.
I didn’t know
my heart should
swell, but
never shatter.

I didn’t know
all the things
love was
and
I never knew
it would be you
to teach me.

Karen Hayward (c)2017
Image and words.

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That curve
Is energy cascading
across me,
through me.
Look how
your essence falls
upon me,
Like a cashmere
scarf,
gently caressing
the tilt of my chin.
The simplicity of
a sensuous scent
Lustrous intent
erotic content.
That curve licking,
kissing, stroking
exploring, traversing
the very contours
of my mind.
A treasured find,
One of a kind.
That curve of your
tongue as words
form, escaping your
lips that beg me
always for one
tiny kiss.

Karen Haywrd (c) 2017

. . . because beauty comes in many guises.

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. . .because beauty comes in many guises.

External beauty, seen only in the
dark shadows, kissed by a crescent
moon, shroud in storming clouds.

Internal beauty, heard only between
the speckled flakes of cosmic dust
dispersed on opalescent beams.

External beauty gracing the page
in the aesthetic ink of bleeding
wounds and echoed screams.

Internal beauty never fading
perpetual light illuminating eyes,
hope, splattered about life’s canvas.

External beauty duels time and age
captured moments of supremacy
a catalyst of inspired thought, for. . .

Internal beauty needs no parade
in her mellifluous symphony.
Internal beauty needs no parade.

Rob Gordon & Karen Hayward © 2017
Image ©2017 KH