by Shelby Leigh
It Starts Like This
I remember those nights I awoke from nightmares, my sheets damp from sweat yet my body shivered like I had just finished an ice bath. My teeth would chatter and I'd scan my bedroom for the monsters, finding crazy-shaped heads in the shadows and green eyes peeking out between the tiny slits of my closed closet doors.
I would slowly, carefully step out of bed so as not to wake them and sprint to my parent's bedroom telling my seven-year-old self, don't look back. I would traipse over to my parent's bed and squirm in between them, and it was in the warmth of familiar faces that I could fall asleep within seconds.
But something changes when you get older. I've learned monsters are not shadows in the dark nor are they nightmares that disappear when the sun rises. You can't just wake up and find yourself back in your own bed anymore. They are within you and they are wherever you look. You may even get a better night's sleep now because seven hours of closed eyes means seven hours of escape.
But don't push the monsters away. Let them free.
Let them out of your mind, your blood, your bones.
Write.
Wide Awake
Don't get me wrong, I'm an independent person.
But I quite like the idea of waking up in the middle of the night with your arm wrapped around me.
Not protecting me, just holding me.
And when I can't sleep, I get to admire you.
I can hold my breath until our heart beats are in sync or maybe I can kiss the scar above your lip.
I can count the freckles on your arms like I am an astronomer mesmerized by the stars in the sky.
I can guess where your dreams are taking you by studying your wavering smile or fluttering eyes.
And when I do fall asleep, I will dream about you,
the last thing my eyes saw
before I gave in to the exhaustion.
And when I wake up, the first thing I will see is you.
Maybe you will still be sleeping soundly
holding onto me,
or maybe I will catch you admiring me, too.
Her
Admire her.
Notice the crinkles that outline
her eyes like a crescent moon
when she smiles.
Watch how she giggles
or plays with her hands
when she's proud.
Touch her.
Prove to her that the stretch marks
decorating her skin
are intricate works of art.
Caress her with gentle hands and
soft fingertips, admiring
every curve of her body.
Cherish her.
Adore her.
Love her.
After all, she's the one who taught you how.
Battle Scars
I can create a painting
from the freckles on your cheeks
or a song from your soft breaths on my neck
I can trace the scars on your thighs
with our legs intertwined
a mark of triumph not of failure
a memory of a war you fought with yourself
and won
The Thief
I think you accidentally
stole my heart
keep it
you'll probably
treat it better
than I do anyway
You
I am in love with your sleepy voice and crooked smile.
I am in love with your passion, for me and for life.
I am in love with your wisdom, gained from what has been lost and what is to come.
I am in love with the soft curls of your hair and dark hazel eyes.
I am in love with your sensitivity, your drive to always do better and be better.
I am in love with how you take me for who I am.
I am in love with your romantic side and with your serious side.
I am in love with the comfort you emit, your ability to be my home when you’re a thousand miles away.
I am in love with how you look at me.
I am in love with your motivation and your support for my silly dreams.
I am in love with your accessibility, my shoulder to cry on, my protector at three a.m. when I have nowhere else to turn.
And I am in love with the way you love me.
Swearing
I swear
with every kiss
you leave words on my tongue
and every time you break away
I breathe a poem
into my lungs
Dew
think of me as a rose
blooming
underneath the hot sun
curling my stem
towards you
and baring my soul
every part of me
that is beautiful
you will not see
until I am ready to
show you
unwrapping
my most private
thoughts and
letting them escape
in the wind’s caress
only to drown
in dewy grass
Warm Blankets
wrap me up
in the sounds of your laugh
that comfort me more
than the warmest blanket
and soothe me greater
than a hot water bath
I am fragile
in the strong gates
of your arms
and I fear I will crumble
to pieces in your grasp
but then you laugh
and I am no longer afraid
not of you
because how could
an iron statue
carry the voice of an
angel on its shoulders?
Keepsakes
if you lend me your heart
I vow to not break it
I’ll keep it safe within mine
so no one can take it
and if ever you are lost
with nowhere to roam
reach for my hand
and I’ll guide you home
You Are Like Poetry
You are like poetry.
The thin lines decorating your hands
are the black ink that marks a lined page.
The beat of your heart is
a steady stream of words
with perfect rhythm.
You are the words I breathe
and the rhymes I arrange
and the ink flowing out of my pen.
You are the thoughts in my head
that I put down on paper.
You are the everlasting memories
that words create.
You are permanent
and beautiful
and mine.
Laughter
I have never known a sweeter sound
than your laughter
maybe they are right when they say
laughter is the best medicine
because when I hear that glorious sound
my sadness melts away
like a spoonful of sugar on my tongue
and I am sure that if I heard
your laugh everyday
I could never be unhappy again
Rhythm
tonight
you fell asleep on my chest
and I became conscious
of every breath
watching your head rise and fall
and feeling so loved
that you trusted me
with such an innocent task
of being your resting place
your home for slumber
and I will slow my heart's rhythm
so you can focus on your dre
ams
and if a nightmare creeps
into your mind
just open your eyes
and feel my heart beating close to yours
Homeless
I made a home in your arms
carved your collarbone to
perfectly rest my head
slowed your heartbeat
so I could fall asleep to
the sound of soft footsteps
laid your arms tightly around
my waist so I would always
feel safe no matter where my
dreams took me
I made a home in your arms
and I don’t know what changed
but you began showing up
in my nightmares
and my head no longer fit
in the delicate curve of your neck
and I awoke to find
you had pushed me aside
and were sleeping soundly
as I wiped my tears dry
Wishes
I pretend the crescent moon
is the soft curve of your back
and the stars are the twinkle
in your eyes when you smile
I pretend the crickets chirp to the
tempo of your heart beating
and the tree branches swaying
are your hips as we dance
I pretend the shooting star
I just wished upon
will hear my plea and you
will soon be back in my arms again
Blank Page
I want to stop writing poetry about you
but my pen does not obey
as soon as the ink touches a blank page
words appear I never wished to say
I tried to write a poem about
spring beginning to bloom
but it ended up as a haiku
about me missing you
Blue
I’m standing before you
a stranger that I used to know
the sunlight
streaming through
closed flowered curtains
casts a shadow on your face
so I can only see
tear-stained eyes
pleading for another chance
and
I don’t remember them being
so blue
Dust Storm
you are the blur in my eyes
that comes from staring at the sun too long,
and your fading light drowns me in sorrow
as you disappear beneath the horizon.
My eyes sting like I've been caught in a dust storm
and my tears burn as they crawl down my face
as if I'm being branded by your desertion.
But then--
a glimmer of hope--
like a ray of light pushing through
a dark cloud
you turn around and shoot me
in the heart with beaming eyes
like lasers
and I am bleeding.
I never understood the term
‘broken heart’ until this moment,
until I am lying on my back
staring up at the sky
desperately looking for a
glimpse of you in the clouds
Sleepwalker
I am sleepwalking through a forest
where minutes soon become hours
branches tap me on the shoulder
and sunlight creeps behind me
as dawn breaks to say hello
and your silhouette becomes
a shadow
staring at me as sunlight
pierces black eyes
I take a step closer as you take a step back
that’s how it has always been
I laugh
and your silhouette becomes
a shadow
I blink
and you are gone
Predator
it was her walk that destroyed me
the confidence in her stride
eyes that read every inch of my body
in one glance
it was her eyes that stripped me
of my own self-love
the disgust on her face reaching
through my skin to the bone
it was her smile that melted me
a half-moon upon bitter lips
a pitying shake of the head
that molded me into a beggar
it was her hair that captured me
dark brown rope circling around my body
like a snake attacking its prey
and I was hers for the taking
Mountain Song
I can shout how I feel
to the mountains
but my voice will not echo like it should
and so I will write it down
in black ink,
a permanence you cannot erase when
you stop loving me
and the mountains
forget the song I sang for you
when I stood on top of the world
Poison
your name was always
my favorite song to sing
and when you said mine
my heart stopped beating
the way it rolled off your tongue
coated in sugar and a smile
it’s funny how
I never tasted the poison
until you kissed me
Erosion
your words pierce my lungs
like nails scraping down a chalkboard
burying themselves in my veins
and leaving scratches on my skin
I try to run from your voice
but sound travels faster than my feet
and besides,
every time I close my eyes
your voice is all I hear
echoing through my brain
like you are standing on top of a mountain
shouting to me at the bottom of a canyon
and I am surrounded by rock walls that have
been perfectly eroding for centuries
making way for you to dig my grave
Thoughts
I always had an easy time writing
about people and places and things.
I never struggled with conveying my thoughts
through words and
I would sit down to a new sheet of paper
and watch words escape my pen
quicker than thoughts
ran through my head.
But when I met you,
I stopped writing.
I couldn’t find the words
to say how I felt
and for a while I told myself
it was because I was too happy
and you were too special
to be limited to just words.
But then
I realized something as I picked up
my pen for the first time in months–
you took the words out of me
because there were none in you.
Close
Isn’t it strange how
someone across the sea can
make you feel so close
yet you can look into
a person’s eyes and they
still feel miles away?
That’s how I felt
when I looked at you.
I could see the blue
in your eyes so clearly,
the dark eyelashes
and the crinkle lines
but I had no idea what you
were looking for.
I just knew it wasn’t me.
Fears
I fear the night
the kind of pitch black
where even shadows
disappear
I fear the quiet,
the thumping
of my own heart
amidst utter silence
but
I fear you
most of all
you became a stranger
when once
you were my closest
friend
The Dagger
I thought I knew you better than anyone
but even I could not see your sword
plunging straight into my heart and
now I am paranoid
that he will hurt me like you did
I have lost the ability to open my arms
for someone else to hold because
every time I do
I await another dagger
to break the scar that has finally healed
Bones
and if you only knew
how my bones ache for you
I wonder if you’d tell me
your body is fragile, too
Spinning
Closing your eyes and feeling your mind
swirl through a desert of darkness
like your imagination is parched and
needs something new to quench its thirst and
so you can feel
behind closed eyes
your mind searching through many worlds
much too quickly for comprehension and