One Candle
by Serena Mossgraves
is it too much
to light a single candle,
to illuminate the world
one small light at a time?
One Candle to fight the darkness,
one Candle to push the dreary away.
I am not trying to rid the world
of all the darkness,
That is too much for me to try,
I just want to push some light
into the world so that I might see.
One Candle is enough for me.
White Out
by Serena Mossgraves
so many have associated
the color black with death,
I think it is not true.
Black is the mix of all that is
whereas white is the absence .
Absence of color,
absence of life,
absence of the existence
of what was and what
could be.
Darkness Settles in
by Serena Mossgraves
the cloud of hatred passes above
making it hard to see,
the urge to just complain
falls over me.
the darkness is everywhere
settling across the souls,
it is easy to vent and give in to
the urge to call on our own
frustration, don’t I know…
But instead of putting more hatred
into an already full world
I am interested in trading peace
to weave kindness to begin.
Today I struggled with the prompt. Every year it has a Love /Anti Love prompt and I often struggle with it.
If I paint myself
By
Serena Mossgraves
Would you love me
if I paint myself
to resemble the child
you wanted me to be?
plucking away each
of my differences
making sure I was just
the one you planned me to be ?
The paint is peeling,
perfection an illusion,
not reality…
I cannot make myself
fit the dream of who I should be.
If I paint myself to fit the world
I lose the colors I was given at my birth,
And darkness settles in…
smothering my mirth.
Under my head
By
Serena Mossgraves
the stones are poking
so painful today,
the box is broken
under my head.
I was laid down
and told to rest
in place filled with
glass from my memory
grounded.
perhaps it was supposed to be
soft silt for me to lie,
but due to the chaos of my broken life
shards of stone and hatred
are poking painfully
under my head.
Stained Glass burial
By
Serena Mossgraves
bury the urge
in my soul,
to be perfect.
I am broken glass
from a stained glass window
only in the shades of gray.
Crimson drops reveal
the fault lines
that deeply carve into
the soul released across
eternity .
Decompose
By
Serena Mossgraves
Don’t know what is
Eating at me,
Clawing into my soul…
Opening up my
Memories at the end of the knife.
Pretending that I will be
Okay after all is
Said and done…
Eventually.
Pattimouse 