Skylark Poetry

 Tea-stained and creased Sorrel wisps fold and flow Eyes aglow in every conversation A presence to rival temporal constructs Blissful glances and wistful touches Instances melt like candyfloss to the tongue Vulnerability an incense that encompasses the soul A slurry that deepens a prior present inspiration Isla Skylark. 8.7.2022 10.40

Once, she looked in the mirror. She saw the flaws. She sought beauty. Searching... she found a child.   Seasons changed. Life kept happening. She grew. She shrunk. She grew again. She frowned. She laughed. She wept. She found love. She found pain. She found adventure.   All the while, she kept the child safe. The child was to be untainted. Untainted by life and the journey it brought.    However, She did not know the child knew pain. She did not know the child knew sadness. She did not know the child wanted to grow.   A new chapter started. The child began to speak. The child demanded to be heard. The child demanded growth.   The woman, forced, took a step back. No longer looking in the mirror. No longer searching for something ever-changing Or something that will never be or could be. No longer protecting the child.   She looked the child in their eyes And she said, "Grow, y...

 The pain of a late apology. When regret settles in. A realisation is made. A past that can never be rewritten And a pain that would never fade. To say "I'm sorry" would be too few words. To say "I sincerely apologise" would be not enough. I want to say "I'm sorry" ... ... to apologise for the pain. To apologise for your struggle. To apologise for the heartarche. To aplogise for the heartbreak. You loved me. You truly do. And I took me away from you. For that I am sorry.  I know it's part of life: to gain love and lose love. And I know an apology is not enough.  Nor will it change anything. It will not bring back what you've lost. It may not heal any wounds. It may not bring revelation or closure. It is, but, a weight that was on my heart. For eternities I would apologise for the pain I have brought you. Isla Skylark.

On stars and hearts On roses and moons. On tanzanite wishes. On puddles and llama hugs. On a long lost past. On wishes of what-ifs. On what is gone. On what hurts. Daily. Reminders. 150520 2259 Skylark

by Isla Skylark In shrouded thoughts, I sit and wait for my love to speak, for my love to prate. About things of new and things of old about things blue and about things gold. Each thought heavy, each thought bright Each thought urging for one to hear its plight. Heavy is the mind wrought in emotional overthought Heavy is the heart feeling like it was all for nought. Trying to let words escape Making sure it is nice albeit; The pure thought may hurt, the words almost inert. As her lips utter a soft mutter, "I am no more, my soul a shatter" 15.12.2019 @ 21.11

A bed of clouds.  A person asleep.  On the monorail. In the City I keep. Isla Skylark 27/04/2018 6.49

Closing up. Anxious gasps of air escape my lungs with such horror and scarcity fighting to get into the world, but my lungs close up and my chest tightens; I am sewn from the lips. closed. shut. tightly.. Heart in pounding motion. on and off and on and off and on and off..and on and off. Skipping beats are from a time of old. Thoughts swallow my mind. Consuming my soul. Do I feel or don't I feel. I am questioning without breathe. Without pause. Assumed questions on repeat. I don't want love. I want to be free. Maybe it's him, or her or them or, me? (breathe) Closing my eyes. I want to escape. I feel shut in a place sealed from the world I want to be in and live in and breathe in ..the world I am in. I want my own pace. I want my own time. I want myself. I don't want them. Anxious gasps of air trapped in my lungs..the drum of my heart beating loudly in my mind.. Lightheaded. Pass out. Don't get up. Stay where you are. where I am. P...