When gnats bite

It hurts. It actually does.
When I run my fingers
across my skin, like
sun burn, searing, stinging,
screaming pain.
I flinch.
The tablets taste like
earth. Earth and
sore memories of
childhood and this
realisation I am alone.
And oh god I am hungry,
I tell myself tomorrow
I will chart it up
remind myself to eat
between the empty
stomachs, I crave
the dinners of yesteryear;
Roast chicken
cauli cheese, roast tatties,
baby peas, followed
by homemade rice
pudding, I dreamt
about rice pudding
its sweet sticky
milk whilst curled
up watching Only Fools
or Open all hours
with a blankie,
tea and biscuits
surrounded by that
safe silence that
says pause child, pause.

Karen Hayward ©2018

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Unfurling beauty.

img_20160423_150722.jpg

The stark emptiness of a blank canvas
unfurling before my eyes. A lush carpet
of soft blades of fresh grass tickling
my senses as I explore bare foot around
the confines of my existence.
Will you walk there with me into the unknown?
With a touch of my finger I will spread
daisies across the horizon, white petals
dancing gently in the breeze
as yellow faces search for Helios.
Long gone are my dreams of crimson
petals that line the marble floor.
The aged trees in their wisdom will bend
their branches and form for us a bed,
softened with moss from the woodland
grounds and decorated with delicate
star white petals, as the soft scent of
Jasmine dances on the summer breeze.
Will you lay at my side and let me map
the contours of your body with a trail of
gentle kisses shimmering in the golden
sunlight that caresses our uninhibited
bodies? And as I dance freely across
this canvas of creation, rose bushes
of every colour will bloom beneath
the shadows of my foot prints,
a floral dance floor for the twilight
hours as Selene watches from the heavens
and creates a pool of tranquility in which
for us to bathe, sprinkled delicately
with her crystallized devotion.
And what beauty will you bring to my vision?
Will you lay your palms upon the earth and
create for me peahens and peacocks
plumes of subtle beauty,
so I may see the beauty of his train
as he calls to his love? Will you tread upon
the luscious grass and leave behind
a trail of promised dandelion wishes,
for me? Will you look to the heavens and
request shooting stars to illuminate our skies?
Will you look to the clouds and ask for
warm rain to fall from the skies so we may
dance together beneath the falling droplets?
The stark emptiness of a blank canvas
unfurling before our eyes in quartz promises
past scars long eschew.

Karen Hayward ©2016 (2017 edited)