Coco J. Ginger's Blog, page 21

Her Story

She wakes, and doesn’t know why her face is drawn up with ink lines. Her dreams turned stories while she slept. Her tears all formed to ink. Line by line her tears are falling. Word by word the ink exploding. His ink falls out her eyes— as she writes him in her story.

For she is his poet…

and he is her poetry. —Lang Leav

I feared myself…

..more than I feared anyone or anything. I knew how powerful I was. I knew how powerful I could be— It was terrifying. I kept nostalgia as my right-hand shield. My shield of protection so I could dwell on all that was, instead of becoming all I was.

My Piano

“I tell my piano the things I used to tell you.” ― Frédéric François Chopin

I Hold

If I could have had him I could have let him go. But without the having there was nothing– So to thenothing I hold.

Ghost

In your memory I hide. In my heart you lie. In the stitches of my body your ghost comes alive.

Her Words

Love a girl who writes, and live her many lives; you have yet to find her, beneath her words of guise. Kiss her blue inked fingers, forgive the pens they marked. The stain of your lips upon her— the one she can’t discard. Forget her tattered memories, or the pages others took; you are her […]

The only thing worse than he…

…was the DMV. How I loathed the DMV.

He wants me to be confident—

I sit at the piano. I feel his cold world collapse beneath my fingers as I pound acrossthe ice cold keys. Like his heart, I play to win. Like the beat within my soul I pound the rhythm out like sin. The storm rages all around me. Lightning crashes as I speed into prestissimo. I […]

A Simple Life

She hopes the money dies— She wants a simple life, a simple life, a simple life. She hopes his memory leaves her brain— She wants a simple smile, a simple smile, a simple smile. She hopes his words fall out her chest— she wants a simple heart, a simple heart, a simple heart. She hopes […]