Salt upon My Pillow


I see the candle drip its wax into fluid golden red

Within a vase of water blue they float above my head

Inspiring sweet serenity a path of light extol

Weary spirit longs for rest dream oh fragile soul

Accepting inner beauty through profound surrender

Journey of wisdom trust in truthful splendor

Soothe a troubled mind encouraging compassion

Value your worth in every shape and fashion

 

Sands sift through the hourglass as time slips away

While away the hours with little left to say

Unspoken words left on my tongue bitter taste expelled

All the anger in my head where happiness once dwelled

I laid awake the weary night thinking thoughts of you

Tears of salt upon my pillow I’d nothing left to do

Memories played within my mind the actors so familiar

I tried to shake the pain away and felt oh so peculiar

 

The little pills between my lips purple blue and small

Left me fuzzy in my head yet took away it all

Fixated on the colored light within the lava lamp

The little orbs of colored wax now make my forehead damp

The smoke that fills my water pipe has gotten me quite high

My legs are feeling heavy as I heave a great big sigh

Chocolate creamy smooth and dark melts around my finger

The music that we listened to decides to come and linger

 

Gentle waters flow within the corners of my mind

And I find that thoughts of you seem terribly unkind

As I feel a heaviness well up within my chest

No matter what I try to do I’ll never find my rest

You’re deep within the heart of me you run within my veins

The tears I tried to hold inside flow like torrential rains

It’s then I find I lose myself to your love so completely

You came again and stole my heart you came oh so discreetly . . .

 



©Kay Salady
All rights reserved, Kay Salady Poetry

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About Kay Salady

I write about the greatest force on earth that, I believe, lives on forever and surpasses all else. "All your poems read like I am watching an artist use words instead of colours full of feeling." ~Anon.

Posted on June 28, 2011, in poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Tragic…but beautifully expressed

    Like

  2. powerful and sad.
    well delivered.

    Happy Potluck!

    Like

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