What Comes Next. Poem by Leah Ayliffe

It's so obscene to be here at all
I laugh at the absurd thought of living and dying
as if the two were somehow different
not intertwined in a beautiful love affair.
He pins a dark blue flower in my hair
I dance around the living room to the groove of a rainy day,
while he plays video games all the hours of a grey sky
motorcycles racing on the television screen
A boys real dream.
I don't mind wasting the time away
watching and twirling,
listening deeply to each tune.
I know midnight wine will let me be in silent fantasies
After they leave for the road.
I cough and my chest knows this ill fever has not ended.
It feels like the past year I've been so bad with this waking sickness,
like time stood still in this little village outside the big world,
and yet here it is, leaving so fast it's almost behind me.
I'm left in the moment dreaming of sparkling beaches and an ocean breeze
while the rain gently falls outside the grand glass windows.
I lay safely, dreamily, inside the walls of make believe.
A home made with love and happiness.
Happiness...
Yet I'm static.
Not entirely free, not tied up or chained either.
Just a current and seemingly endless state of content with smiles and laughter too.
Freedom hiding just around the corner
a holiday of desire hiding up my sleeve.
I see so fiercely, a spark to a flame burning in my eyes.
Something I can't put a limit on is coming
and I've never felt so alive in these thoughts of hope in what's next.
It's all ours,
We might as well live.