Naked Leavings by Candice James - HTML preview

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SMOKING

Candice James

Copyright 2009

Ashes,

Painting blow away pictures

Of half envisioned astral views,

The burnt out residue

Of a flaming thought

Surrendering to gray oblivion.

And I think

Cigarettes have something better to tell.

Have you ever listened to one of their secret stories?

I have,

And now I know why the Earth

Is tipping a little more

On its axis each day;

And now I know

Why I love a little more each day;

And now I know everything,

Because, I smoke.

STOLEN NIGHTMARE

Candice James

Copyright 2009

Like a blue midnight haze,

A disassembled feeling hangs by a thread

At the edge of this stolen nightmare.

Damp, and waxing wetter,

It’s the centre of an aging teardrop

That’s carelessly fallen down

A staircase of broken dreams.

There is a heart print on the mirror

Reflecting broken wings and fractured memories.

In search of some obscure unanswered questions,

Mindless and motionless

And steering with a cracked compass

I’m lost at the edge of this stolen nightmare.

It never belonged to me, and now,

I wonder why I ever stole this nightmare