late night daydream

Awake, uncertain, still I wait, for dreams to break their slumber

To call in tongues with wishful thoughts and fears too great to number.

It helps to realise that though I hold him close in thought,

Reality speaks differently and often brings us naught.

The touch of him against my skin, an instant lost in time,

Is 'wakened by a memory and objects held so fine. 

Left behind to torture me and taunt me with its scent, 

Time slides by, no reason why, as tides that came and went.

The material is soft to touch and teasing with its wonder,

Left here all by circumstance? My heart and soul to plunder?

I breathe it in and slip it on, relishing the maleness

I never want to take it off, as it imitates his nearness.

'It will look good on you' he said, and set my heart to pounding,

I'm yet to stop and take it off, for with it I'm abounding

In love and something beautiful, but still too raw to show it,

For though I feel it deep inside, my soul is yet to know it.

The bane of my existance.

As I begin my heart pounds in queer anticipation and fear; anticipating a loveless encounter and fearing the inevitable unknown. An anxious grasp on my heart has shattered my reflexes, causing each movement to be rushed and clumsy. One after the other, in quick succession, my defences fall. A spoken word is shocking and my breath catches in my throat. I force smiles and fake an openness that defies the logic of the situation. The repetitiousness of dutiful routine provides some comfort, but the imaginings of a scorned heart cannot be stilled. Images of unrelated purpose and instance swim tantalisingly by. The colours before me, though bright and diverse, hold no satisfaction. I find escape in each inkling of possibility, turning to run from responsibility and chore. Time begins to resemble thick honey, dripping slow, heavy minutes. Soon, I console myself, soon I will be done. I do dislike working in homewares.

anxiety

Uncharted sleep is severed by the touch of something real,
burning liquid sears my chest, heart clenched in fists of steel.
Images of broken truths torment the twilight hour,
half understood realities dissect my weakened tower.
A revelation unexpected, believed with much duress,
It feeds on my uncertainty and delights in my distress.