Writing

Home is

trying not to smudge 

our still-sticky nail polish

on the carpet

as we sit

cross-crossed

on the floor

spilling secrets

& memories

our speech sliding

i dreamed of the windmills again - 

four big gentle giants towering over the blue-green mountains, 

whirling round the clock like out-of-sync ballerinas, 

To live in the moment 

is to really see 

to really feel the world around you 

to live in the moment is to capture the glow of a camper's hair in the sunlight 

Things sound different at midnight, 

the dark is so much lighter, 

 the noises so much louder. 

Every creak causes a jump. 

The way we can laugh

The way we're so at ease

The way I can't stop looking at you

The way I can feel you

Next to me

Like I'd be happy wherever I can have this

The way we can grab each other's hands

I'm not scared of the dark

I don't trust it

I don't trust what it could reveal

I'm not scared of the dark

I'm scared of my mind

I'm scared of the games my brain plays 

I'm not scared of the dark