Chandelier

Hanging from the ceiling,

Tiptoeing in the wind,

Were little lights that grazed,

Upon the metal stuttering within.

They gloated in their shine,

Smiled at their divine,

Whilst laughing at the iron clad,

That rust from what it had.

And one day, when the metal frame,

Rotted into a mound,

The little lights that grazed in such delight,
Fell unto the ground.

Uninspired

I can’t write the words,

I can only write the spaces in the middle,

But I need words for that too.

Music to my ears

I looked at her, and she was murmuring to herself.
In her quiet nods and slightest smiles,
I knew she was singing to herself.
And despite the noise all around, despite the fact that she wasn't actually saying anything out loud,
All I could hear was her.

Negative Space Two

Where fingers lie, I saw cells die,

Where they recede, I see them whole.

Your face, to me, is negative space,

Hollow, like your soul.