Grass stains & wonder

One day it snuck in through the door Left muddy footprints on the floor It settled somewhere in my house A timid thing, as small as a mouse

It hid in corners out of sight And only wandered out at night It peeked and prodded here and there Till every crack was laid out bare

Slowly but surely it began to grow It's roots spread through the floor below Its thorny vines began to creep Through every room while I would sleep

Then one day I saw it in the mirror Its little face, suddenly clearer It looked at me through my own eyes A twisted thing in poor disguise

It pointed out my every flaw Every blemish and every scar it saw It told me I was dull and small That I wasn't worth much at all

It grew into a hungry beast And fed and fed but was never pleased It stretched its shadow wall to wall Till I hardly knew my house at all

It took my flowers one by one It boarded up my patch of sun It stole my music and tore my art It built a thorny nest inside my heart

It told me I was just a shell That no one knew me very well That if they did they'd walk away And leave me lonely anyway

For years I thought that I should fight And drive it somewhere out of sight So I argued with it night and day But that just gave it more to say

Then one day, I don't really know why I looked it squarely in the eye And for the first time it seemed so small Not much of a monster after all

So I poured in some love every day And slowly swept the dust away I pulled the curtains open wide And let the golden sunlight glide

Slowly then the roots withdrew And in their place wild flowers grew The thorns grew soft, the dark grew thin And birdsong drifted softly in

It smiled and danced across the floor And hid behind the couch no more It seemed to like the patch of sun And slept there till the day was done

Now we live together still Upon the stairs and on the windowsill It's not a perfect life we share But atleast there's sunlight everywhere

Some days the thorns come back once more And scratch their marks upon the door Some days it whispers cruel old lies With sharp little teeth and narrowed eyes

She passed by in a rush In the red dress so frilly With a creeping blush Oh, she looked so silly

She weaved through the crowd Her hands waving about When the gong sounded loud She ran staright without a doubt

Her basket oh so empty Once held fruits for dear granny Now held sad memories a-plenty Of red eyes and teeth uncanny

The ship treaded water Ready to say goodbye She ran on with a quarter And bought the ticket with a sigh

She went aboard and stood Watching the forest dissapear There goes little Red Riding Hood Away from the big bad wolf forever

She stood hiding her fear  In her red dress so frilly But to all who saw her Oh, she looked so silly!

My soul will be found in the most mundane of things..

I will reside in the words that hold the threads to your thoughts; on dog-eared pages, in comfort hard-sought.

I will dance on the strings of age old guitars, to melodies that resonate to the beat of your heart. 

In the morning dew you'll find my reflection, staring out onto your beauty, flawed to perfection. 

In the chirping of birds, you'll hear my song. It will entrance your senses and pull you along. 

And when your outstretched hands search for a way out, I'll intertwine our fingers and run for the clouds.

Do you ever miss a place so much sometimes that your very bones mourn its absence? You feel as if a part of your soul is missing, as if you left it behind when you said goodbye. 

And I did. I left behind the version of myself that belonged to you, the one who knew which cafe to go to when the world felt too large, the one who all the dogs in the backlanes knew, the one who had a favourite bench, a favourite hour, a favourite pocket of quiet. I'd like to think that person is still there, somewhere, walking your roads quietly.

And I kept you too, you know. I pressed you into my memory like a flower preserved between the pages of an old book. Sometimes you still show up, in the slant of the evening sun or in the lilt of a stranger's conversation.

They say home is where the heart is. But what happens when your heart is scattered like seeds across so many places? Who do you become, carrying all of it within you?