Gold

Felt alone
Cause I thought I should
Told to feel this way
Incomplete without a love
Sold to me each day
Yet what I want is not a tide
I won’t succumb to waves
And when I find just what I need
It wouldn’t pull away
Felt alone
But not afraid
Despite what I was told
Not falling for the sterling trends
I’m waiting for the gold

-Galwyn

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Disheartening

I was made for her
But we weren’t made for each other.

I’d reach out and touch her
but would she recall the feeling?

No, I recoil without startle
and relapse without starting
To waste the romance of one’s lifetime-
So disheartening

-Galwyn

Moot

It was then I punched the wall
Not to hurt it or hurt me
But rather something unseen,
Hateful and tense
Shamefully paying heed
To the tattered knuckles of necessity

Loosing so much more than composure
Time and affection,
My creative expression,
Mortal and moot
Scraped away like the sole of a boot
And after so many miles,
I don’t really remember whose shoes

-Galwyn

Oasis

Shallow breathing
We lie beside each other
Her chest rising and falling
A weathered boat bobbing up and down
Tied to a post
On a smooth rusted hitch

The black waves below us
Rocking us to sleep like children
Moonlight shimmering on the surface
Like schools of white fish
Experimenting with the taste of air

I wrap my arm around her
And feel the subtle bumps of her ribs
Only to be seen by their slight shadows
Like smooth sand dunes
Spanning a vast pale dessert

As I surrender my view of her
To the greedy hand of sleep
I take one last look to my beautiful oasis
Of soft chalky sand
and obsidian waves

-Galwyn

Drenched and Distorted

The rain won’t seem to stop falling here
And though I complain
I suppose it isn’t what’s stopping me
From seeing you

Perhaps it’s through these bedewed eyes
Or these grieving windows,
That I take this time to reflect –
Though the pane is rattling
Drenched and distorted

Suppose this rain could wash clean
Rather than chill our skin
And not flood the asphalt with dingy sweat
Wouldn’t that be so poetic?

Yet words aside
Things are as they are
This water has had many lives
Broken smaller then one could imagine
Lifted higher than ever before
And dropped
Sometimes I worry we’re doomed,
To a similar cycle

You’re my oxygen ripped free
Leaving me bitter and hazy
As if I might combust
But nothing feels worse
Than guilting you, over me

A wound only heals as it dries
And this goes for you
Yet every time the evening patters
It reminds me of what matters
I fear for the thunder of knowing it’s you

-Galwyn