Andi Leigh Writes

Peek in the window, To see her one last time. She lies in bed, her head, sunken into her pillow. Kept hidden from Outside dangers. Her family worries. But the confinement hurts Most of all. Walls, stuck, With one window to feel Sunlight warm the linens. Bedridden but not ailing. Paranoia barred doors.

A quaint invitation for a shared pot of coffee. So in love, under sugared starlight, with two timid pairs of hands clutching their filled cups like stone statues. Summoned and joined thanks to secret instruction; to the letter from written letters that had been slipped under chamber doors. Not one tick late for the back-garden dinner party made for a puzzled and guileful pair. They completed the pieces, locked into each other’s eyes, and locked to the table by their shared weakness. A keen exchange between suspicious glances, a plan unplanned by those present. Breathtaking galaxies swirled within the contained pools fastened in toasted palms. And with one synchronous sip, both cups of stars had fulfilled their vicious purpose. Choked-down star-filled bitterness, and lovely eyes rolling back into the fading galaxy of their deceit.

She kept his sweater. Always methodically folding it into a pillow on her bed. She keeps it close to her; smelling the familiarity. Unable to bring herself to wash the eventful reminders out. He could not be caged by her. So this was the next best thing. A soft cotton reminder of their time spent. A knife in the back. She missed him even though he left like evening rain. Leaving her with just her thoughts in the cloudy night. A final decision. She would sob into the knitting. He’ll come back. He’ll come back. She convinced herself these words were as true as the sweater in her arms. That he would want the sweater back. Plead for her to love and forgive him. She would have given him a second chance. And finally, he did return; rising from under her kitchen floorboards and wanting much more than the sweater he had left behind.

A menace, Trustless. A living lie. Bright eyes, Humble smile, Just a rat Getting by. Gifts given, False gestures. No more falling For it all. Corner the rat Against solid Brick wall.

A grim smile trails behind; Cunning and devilishly free. Haunts unbeknownst innocence, An exquisite dinner they’ll be. Lurking in darkest corners, Of pliable fresh personality. Even hints of bleakness slither, Growing famished brutality.

Away from awakened stream, And pushed deep into brush. Clouded mind lead astray By black thorns and decay. Out of reach of riverbank; The clarity of it all untouched By fingertips lost to the mangled Overgrowth of regretful memory. Wake up! Open your eyes! The river cries out with hope, While branches and vines Anchor down; rooting sorrow. The sands flow and fade, Eventually making escape The final option to taste Sweet river’s clarity.

A scrape on the knee. A summer reminder. Daylong adventures; Balancing on decrepit Railroad tracks with a Jumping heart at Every careful step. And hoping a train Won’t come to play. Or if it does emerge, A quick perfect dodge Would save young life. Battering soreness Into exhausted heels, Without care, because, The day was worth The rooted aches.

A man once lived In a house in a tree. People would walk by, But him, they would not see. Only to their eyes was a Plain woodsy place. They would scamper by, Leaving not a trace. They wouldn’t see the house, Just a normal-looking tree. No one ever over For a cup of pine tea. But the man would watch From the window above. Not visible to those Who feel no love. Never been approached, Never spoken to at all. All alone and waiting For a voice to call.

Habit of exhaustion, Tangled in a bind, Telling pretty lies To soothe the mind. Amber jars of petty, Soak out of sight. Skillfully ignoring The will to fight.

She holds a stone close. It’s from her mother’s garden. Sets it on her grave.

When will the storm stop? We all need a break sometimes. Let’s play retro games.

Sleep, oh so fleeting. With worry like static shock. Sun through window blinds.

She waits for her end. Trapped on the rusty train tracks. A light comes her way.

Snapshot in Aperture eyes. Memory locked in, Like light imprinted On grainy film. A single precious Memento saved, Forever kept In mindful album.

Lifting heart Out of grave. From shallow ditch, So worth to save. At the lowest Point to know. Compassion given, Love is shown. Out of the mud, Cleaned, renewed. New place to start, Loneliness subdued.

Unbearable weight, Tossed like a light stone Into a grieving whirlpool When time has marched on. Burden withheld in sore arms For longest time. And heart breaking; Enduring heaving breath. But not a minute more. Enough has been done. No need to carry boulders. Especially not alone When round the corner, You can toss mere pebbles To hungry waters together.

Here she feels the breeze. She feels it through her hair. Wind whipping wild around, She’s not at all scared. Visions of deep blue, Her eyes meet the waves. She came to understand She wasn’t meant to be saved. But that’s not true at all. Her family is hurting. But that was not on her mind, While she was reassuring. All okay was everything. No one will miss me at all. Sadly, that’s what she thought, Right before her ending fall.

Soft touch of the grass. I feel her dedication. Mother Earth nearby.

Decent days ahead. Finally some warm weather. Stolen by the rain.