Summer

The sun is warm honey on my skin

In the midst of a radiant summer.

The time for clothes that call to sin

And spiked lemonade in a rummer.

The time for smiles that reach the eyes

And laughing as an anthem song.

With adventure seekers under azure skies

And where foolish ideas are never wrong.

Feeling my toes squish through the sand
And the salty breeze kiss my cheeks.
Seeing my skin with a golden tan
And the days blending into weeks. 

Never wanting the bright sun to set,
Always being the best summer yet. 

The Cry of Silence

The cry of silence: so sharp, so deafening, 

Piercing my ears in the bliss of night.

Waiting for the vacant whispers to sing,

Or watching for the reluctant flickers of light.

I hold still in the weightless cocoon,

Barely a breath I let form a plea.

Hoping for the sun to rise again soon,

Before the darkness wholly envelops me.

My eyes trace the shadows of ghosts,

And their tacit will to move unseen.

I feel like the shell of an unwanted host,

Counting breaths for the first ray to gleam;

Praying for light to burst at the seam.