Lily Ives

That dreadful feeling of turmoil
seeps through my arteries;
I scream to cry but don't make a sound.
The pain is deep, and its source is a mystery.
...

What is the concept of time?
The clock dial spins on repeat in a circular motion every 24 stops, and
I can hear it tick and tock
In the morning the sun rises, and at night it falls
...

Pull the sheet over my head;
and let me rest here.
I peeled my face off the mirror
and threw the crimson stone
...

How does it sound when a heart breaks?
Does it bang like the sudden blast
of a forgotten land mine
ripping the flesh of an unfortunate animal?
...

Pull the wool over my eyes;
there's nothing left to see here.
Panic, fakery, fear and exhaustion
pollutes the rivers that once
...

Fear,
You're both my friend and my foe.
You keep me alive,
And you prevent me from living my best life.
...

What would you do if you knew that all the elements bring me to you?

I gaze at a flame, dancing across a burning log,
and watch it slowly disintegrate into sleepy embers as I think of you.
...

I fell in love.
The rug was pulled from under my feet,
And I bravely took that first step off the cliff.
I did as they wrote in the stories and took a chance,
...

Upon a grey and gloomy day,
A mob of crows descend softly on the shore.
Waves crash, break and threaten to claim
the land beneath black talons.
...

The enemy is not in the sex
It is not in the kiss
It is not in the woman
It is in the mirror
...

Run! Run!
Go and catch the light.
The final hour is upon us as the sun retreats
her formless embrace across the sea.
...

While you pave the way for your future,
the land beneath your feet awaits to welcome you.
The marble tombstone will rise to be your eternal home;
your bones will be all that's left of your dreams, woes and joys.
...

Trapped by the idea of an unchanging
and everlasting self, we seek to outlive death
through religion and faith.
What a pity that we can't see,
...

It doesn't matter if you're black or white,
Nor if you're skinny or fat.
It doesn't matter what you believe,
Nor what you feel.
...

The war ripped us
out of the soil that bore us.
I spent many years longing
to be a child, and to play with you;
...

What we call black and white,
is many shades of grey.
The silhouette of a curvy feminine body.
The shadow cast over a furrowing brow,
...

I recount that moment in the shower
when I was a blank white on white.
I was barely visible against the white
backdrop of the shower curtain.
...

Boats, shores and all the blue
can't distract me
from the way I feel about you.
As the tide swells, I dwell
...

You're just a story amongst stories in my life.
My book is filled with frantic ghosts on a paper
that dance the waltz into form to describe
intangible feelings collected over time.
...

My body is a home
and a temple—
it is sacred.
...