Compass

She was his North. ~ Mark Thompson

Heart of gold

Her heart’s not of gold as a good heart should be. It was molded from birth through ash-filled past days, mistakes and dismay. Through times so unjust, fear-fuelled through mistrust, dripping muddy-teared faces and tempting memory erases. The lessons now known gave her heart the way, in compassionate trust to see through the storm, to…

Air

I want to breathe in your breath. I want to breathe it in until I don’t even know if it’s your breath or mine that we’re inhaling; Whether it’s your breath or mine filling our lungs. ~ Mark Thompson

Fireworks

He looked upon her like a child watching fireworks; for the very first time.

Footnote

A footnote told their story.* ~ Mark Thompson *

Caution

She gave away her heart like a bee gives away it’s sting.

Graffiti-covered

She was the graffiti-covered wall. Her atoms were bricks, forged in a furnace of moments, her mortar holding them tight. She was drenched in the paint of those who touched her. Layered in angst; coloured with love; splashed in memories; peeling with scars. She weathered the storms and accepted her cracks, and loved every inch…

Pathways

Billions of neurons firing, and the strongest of pathways are for you. ~ Mark Thompson

Lamb chops

Sometimes she would scream, like plastic-wrapped lamb chops in a grocery store; only a month prior. ~ Mark Thompson