No Stars in the Ceiling

My eyes close and the night fully envelopes my frame. The night I held at bay with tired smiles and suppressed giggles finally has won me over, nestled in foreign sheets. I close my eyes and welcome the silent night, my humble repose.
I wish the night was silent.
My thoughts are settling softly, slowly...

A train in the distance, its siren coaxes me to stay aware. The blare jolts my eyes back open ot a dark and unassuming ceiling.

It's not filled with stars.
It's white and empty, shrouded in shadows.

The train's whistle continues on its seemingly unending journey.

A screech of tires calls the attention of my ears to the window.
My eyes follow.

A laugh pierces the quiet.

I squirm to find  a comfortable position to drift to sleep in.
No matter where I thrash too, the sounds follow, hollowing out the quiet, ruining the darkness.

I wake up. My head aches with unrest.
The world has kept me from sleeping.
A constant reminder.

Sleep provides no reprieve.
There is no escape.
There are no stars in the ceiling.

I'd Give Me to You

And I'd give my life for you
I hope you know
I'd breathe my final breaths
so you could breathe a hundred more.
I'll bake you a tiny portions of my love so
you can have a good taste in your mouth
and, hopefully, on some level, know that
this is because
I love you

And I'll coach you through
your silences
a loving gaze, a helping hand...
And I'll guide the pen across the page,
lulling your thoughts to rest,
the method behind your madness
And all I can hope is that you'd
do the same for me.

Only I know that you won't.

Words fail when actions refuse to begin

My watch ticks on, reminding me
that you're late.

I'd die for you, I hope you know

But you don't.
You don't know me at all

A thousand voices attack from all sides
My watch ticks on.
Love, when words end, actions must begin

Sweet Dreams

It frightens me to sleep with words in my brain.
I'm scared they'll leave me when I leave this day.
They fit around my sanity,
toying with perceptions.
They dress themselves up and
lead extraordinary lives
for however long they want.
     I have no control
They taint me in my drowsiness
They caress my face
     Once upon a time
     no
     That's not right

my breath slows
my heart beats rhythmically

My words tuck me in and
change to conduct my dreams
     It was the best of times
     It was the worse of times

     Yes
     That's the right start

Make A Wish

The glow from the campfire lights up her face, creating contours never before imagined. He stares at the mysteries and at the flickering lights in her eyes. Watching only her eyes, he manages to enjoy the fire. Smouldering eyes. That's what his friends would say. He means it differently. He means that the fire is glowing and vibrant in her eyes.

The wood burns.

A sudden crackling of firewood and the light change. She jumps. They all giggle at her and she smiles softly, the glowing wood shadows hiding her eyes. He offers her a marshmallow and her smile widens .
They sit in silence, observing their golden marshmallows, mildly listening to the banter that is unravelling across the flame, but really, they're glancing through the half shadows at the other.

The wood crackles again.
A spark flies through the air. A shooting star.
Make a wish.

He turns to her and she to him.
They put down their marshmallows and walk away, arm and arm, into the night.

Their marshmallows burn.
No one notices

To Chaos

Snow from nowhere pastes itself to the car, clouding judgement, separating the inside from the darkness. Hollow lights drive at us from their unique origins. They illuminate the snow as it falls in its mad decent, sped up by the sheer speed of us. Vague outlines of trees stand guard of the darkness.

A twinkle catches my groggy eyes: A galaxy of stars taken from space and into a B.C valley. The town is surrounded by darkness and disappears with each left we take.

It has stopped snowing.

Too much snow was caught in the dismal beam of headlights.

We're descending into the galaxy.

It's the first time we've encountered civilization in hours.

And I feel so far removed.

We take a series of rights, and the lights stay behind us.

This moment, this feeling was written for me over a century before: I'm heading into the heart of an immense darkness. 

The windows fog again and even the dim glow of the headlights becomes unclear.

I sit here in this darkness with only my words and my thoughts of you, the Beatles' humming gently in my ear, tempting me away from the edge of a bad idea. 

Penny White

Penny White stares into space during math class, caught up in the clouds and goodness of spring. SHe dashes to history, and she fawns over William Blake in her literature class. She laughs with her friends at lunch and gets into a mood after a long day. She spends time with her family before doing her homework when she gets home. She enjoys spending time with her cat and with her books - she loses herself in them.

And I know I've gotten this wrong.
And I know I'm writing about me.
But what's so different about us anyways?

I can't tell if she's real.
And she doesn't know I exist.