Slow Pulse ©Molli Paige

we all have a hunger

we all have this encoded need

some of them cut so deep...when is there time to breathe

eyes closed, she screams in the night

the water slowly drips and runs dry
everything falls to a whispered quiet

listening to the blood in my veins

a slow, slow pulse beats silent and low
if I let it...
...it could sway me into a permanent trance

my heart refuses it though

breaking it down

and forcing it to speed

yet the balance

seems shattered

I’m on this swing, being torn

...a constant 
back and forth

over and over

the shirt I’m wearing

is suffocating

my heart, no longer inside

...instead

is open wide

on my sleeve

leaving me

bleeding

and gasping...

for air

my fingertips touch, feel

search for the real

anything that’ll make it easier to breathe

the leaves

...falling

eyes closed, hands stretched up high
I hear

a whisper of a calling

of everything I know to be true

waiting for that indescribable light to shine through

making all thoughts and all the commotion fade
...down...

...down...to a whisper

...to a quiet whisper...

and disappear...

Chance ©Molli Paige

What are the chances

fact or fiction.

some random event,
an idiom at best.

the chance-factor in life
getting us caught in time;

is love the answer
or is it not?

is the key hidden?

somewhere out of sight.

decades go by,
we can't go back.

a swirling array of lights
kiss, bounce and interplay...

...what are the chances?