Trapped in a cage, with only a window, but even that is cruel You can see your dream outside, you can almost touch it- But you can't. You saw them building the walls around you, but you couldn't move in time, You wanted to run. You saw others do it, but you didn't have the … Continue reading My Cage
writing
3:34 AM
That inescapable feeling that the world is wide awake without you. You can hear the gentle breathing of a city full of dreamers, you can feel the pull of your eyelids and you are warm and cozy in your bed, but the screeching of tires on concrete pulls you towards your window. You hesitate but something … Continue reading 3:34 AM
Lost in words
I want to get lost in words not weeks, I want to drown in love not sleep, I want to dream of cloudless skies not debts I want to wake to see the sun rise not set- I want to dive into a crystal river not a sea of paper, I want to climb green … Continue reading Lost in words
Falling Rain at Dawn
The distant sound of gentle drums drift into my dreams, I flutter into consciousness, I tear myself from the comforting darkness clinging to my skin under the sheets I'm pulled into the waking world quickly. A deafening throb of hearts beating, blood pumping, lungs filling, lashes parting, reassures me. Cold air from the night still … Continue reading Falling Rain at Dawn
The Bird
A bird is in her cage with shining new silver bars, At first she sang as she had not realised that she had been trapped, A prisoner of her vows. Now she has no voice, no house, no choice. Her strong wings have been clipped- And her wild ways tamed. Her once bright eyes now … Continue reading The Bird
Nothing
Your acrid breath swims across my soft neck, Scratching at my swollen cheek. Your stinging words drift like dust into my closed eyes, Catching in my clumped lashes- I cannot see Your fleshy hands crawl beneath my papery skin, Whilst cold violets bloom over broken veins. Your sweaty grip breaking brittle bones, Snapping ribs and … Continue reading Nothing
Chapter One
I had always thought the curtains in this room were opulent and graceful; they perfectly matched the rich colours of the dark wine walls-for they had been designed to- they were made from the finest crushed velvet, and hung in rippling waves of extravagance from hand-made golden rails. Now with great effort I turn my … Continue reading Chapter One
Alicia Jones Poetry 