Change

So, when this wonderful guy asked if I wanted to write with him, not only did I jump at the opportunity, but I even said I’d come out of retirement to do so. So, here we are, writing together again. We have seen our share of changes, and we’ll see more, but you can bet we welcome each and every change as a way to grow. Thank You XO

Insecurely Confident

A Duet by bruisedbelly & nottooold2

Change - Frog

Changes, they are a’coming

Coming to our days and nights

Nights will be the easy times

Times of trial will be the days

Days filled with work

Work of new and different forms

Forms and processes to learn

Learn to deal with the distance

Distance seemingly more and more

More intense the days will be

Be patient, my dear, WE will survive

Survive the storm and time

Time has nothing but good to give

Give it everything you have and then

Then we will have time to share

Share tomorrow and tomorrow after

—-

A’coming are some Changes

Changes we have faced before

Before we just grew stronger

Stronger in each other’s worlds

Worlds of new adventures

Adventures, together and apart

Apart only in time and distance

Distance never dulls our hearts

Hearts growing fonder with each change

Change is inevitable

Inevitable in our…

View original post 51 more words

I Will Be Gone

And I will be gone.

A memory,

or less.

Occasionally, perhaps,

a single pounding in your chest.

I will be gone.

Sailing a different sea,

riding a different breeze.

I will be gone,

for I’ve turned another page.

Thanks to the power of my pen, and imagination,

I am simply departing

old ways.

*It is time for me to bid BB (and this site) a fond farewell. I have adored; writing, playing, bonding, hurting, and most importantly – loving, with each and everyone here.
I will be keeping this site on private for my own sappy nostalgia; I will also keep all of my emails available for open communication.
When / if, I get back to posting my writings, it will be at my “To Tell A Story” (Lesley Irma)site.

XO
Lesley Irma

It’s Cold Outside

Baby, it’s cold outside…

The Migraine Chronicles

winefire

baby unzip my dress
let me slip into something,
less

won’t you open a bottle of wine
light the fire

baby,
it’s cold outside
but it’s warm in here
please stay for a while, dear

we can talk about the weather
or
even better

we can cuddle up
kiss and stuff

baby, it’s cold outside
unzip my dress, take off your pants
let’s make some time
for romance

it’s cold outside
it’s warm in here

stay a while, spend the night
stay until the morning light

warm your body against mine
we’ve got nothing else on our minds
I’ll keep you warm, I’ll warm you up
baby stay, don’t stop

it’s cold outside
it’s warm in here
stay with me baby
stay with me dear

View original post

December’s Cruelty

December has claimed
yet another casualty
I drop quickly
to my callused knees
praying for release from
this cruelty

I turn
of course
to my beloved
poetry
a safe comfort
envelopes me

Alone,
yet surrounded
by common
sympathies

Here in This Place
Pain
is the preferred currency
Here in This Place
I find Peace

thus calming

December’s cruelty

 

 

 

Thoughts of him

I cannot move past these thoughts of him

the few and rare moments we’ve had together

his eyes, his lips, his touch

his voice, I love so much

I cannot move on

to the day at hand

the routine, the mundane

I lose touch with common things

as my mind retreats

as I’m lost

in recalling memories

and I smile

at every

thought of him

 

Mind Fuck

I could fuck with your mind
another hundred times

but I’m bored
with this nonsense
and these games

I’m bored
with all of this
same
old same

I’m bored with this
I am bored with that

I could fuck with your mind
your body, your soul

Oh, I could
but I know

I’d still be empty
I’d
still have needs

I could taunt all day
flirt and tease
I could weave my words
to tantalize, to please

I could if I wanted
but I save my energy

for it’s days like today
that my own mind
fucks with me

Run for Your Life

Fear for your life and run like hell

they’ve poisoned the water in the well

they’ve tainted the truth

with blatant lies

cover your ears

your mouth and eyes

Lock yourself up hide away

the world outside has gone astray

The Carnival has come to town

brought with it

Hilary, Donald, and creepy clowns

Run for life, run far far away

it’s coming soon…

Election Day

That body they pulled from the river

That body they pulled from the river

was once full of smiles and mischief

dancing, laughing and full of life

 

That body they pulled from the river

was so young

How did she get there?

She doesn’t belong in the river, in the city…

That body they pulled from the river

is someone’s best friend

someone’s auntie

someone’s niece

someone’s neighbor

someone’s classmate

someone everyone knows…

 

A missing person

A body pulled from the river

A news story

A memory

 

That cop who died today…

That cop who died today …

don of all trades

My coworker walked into my office and I told him, only half jokingly, that if one more person pissed me off this morning, I was probably going to snap.

Some of the recruits had been pushing my buttons with their repeated mistakes and lack of attention to detail.

I was in a foul mood.

“You’re not going to like this then,” he continued.

“The cop shot this morning died.”

Just like it has for eighteen years now, those words hit me like an unexpected punch in the gut.

I knew about the shooting, but assumed or hoped that he would be okay.

Surely he’d recover with time, just like many other people who get shot do.

Nope.

Another police officer is dead.

A young man with a lot of life ahead of him is dead.

A young father is dead.

A young wife is a widow. She may spend days or weeks…

View original post 630 more words

Writing In Place

Some days the distance is so much more distant than others…

The Migraine Chronicles

She wants to run to him
get in her car and drive
until she is standing in front of him

She wants to look in his eyes
run her hands on his smooth face
then pull that face to her for a kiss

She wants to fall into his arms
let go and break down

She wants to cry like a child
and let him comfort her

She wants to be exposed
to express every fear
and have him kiss them away

She wants to run to him
but instead
she pulls herself together
gathers her strength
she looks reality in the face

She turns, of course
to this place
puts her thoughts and feelings
into words on a page

Instead of running
she writes,
in place

View original post

Sarah & Charles ~ An Introduction

Currently my favorite characters / fantasy. 🙂

To Tell A Story

They sat together, close, a little too close some of the other passengers think. “Lovers”, scoffs Mrs. Hamilton, who is sitting the row behind. This just makes Sarah giggle, which in turns makes Charles grin and lean in even closer to her. He whispers “lovers” into her ear just before he nibbles it. They sit close. They hold hands and smile at each other. They are happy.
They have been planning this trip for a long time, two years in fact. Almost from the moment they exchanged their first smile at Momma’s Coffee House. Sarah was in such a rush, as she stopped in to grab her usual mocha to take to her meeting. She hardly noticed the very handsome stranger chuckling to himself as she rushed by, in her Tasmanian Devil style whirlwind, delighting everyone in her path. She hardly noticed him, that is, until she turned to leave…

View original post 571 more words

Balancing (herself)

Forever balancing…

The Migraine Chronicles

fc79055d8906d3d7c7fe7e2e1e5391a3

Is it wrong
she asks
out loud to herself

Of course
she says
to no one else

But it’s right
she whispers
inaudibly

Then she smiles
a smile
no one can see

It’s wrong
while it’s right
it’s a perfect mix

It’s filthy
yet pristine
she loves the thought of it

She’s
the perfect balance
to his perfect beam

Some see a nightmare
she knows
it’s a dream

View original post

She Hates Him

She hates him

The way a dog hates table scraps

The way a cat hates belly rubs

She hates him

She hates his every “good morning”, and his every “goodnight”
She hates the way he questions why good morning is two words and goodnight is one word

She hates how he asks about her day, every single day
How he wants to know something, good, exciting, bad or even sad – how he just wants to know

She hates the way he bosses her – telling her to be careful and safe driving home

She hates that he knows her moods without her saying a word (she hates that the most)

She hates him, like she hates to dream and fly

She hate him, but she never wants to say goodbye

Tick – Tock

the seconds, minutes, hours
turning to days
as the clock continues
to tick away

another week, month
another year
in the mirror
another wrinkle appears

applying make-up
that feels more like spackle
why do I bother
does it even matter

take a deep breath in……
then breathe out
relax for one second – then
continue about

your petty little life
in this great big world
does any of it matter
do you think any of it could

the clock just ticks away
time just marches on
you breathe in
breathe out
you’re dead and gone