I wonder what a quiet mind,
full of light, would feel like;
and if my memories could grow
cold, or if you would turn hot,
outside of the whispers
in the shadows you have
only ever known as home.
Softly now, my darling.
Darkness has withered
the walls of this place,
and it is heavy and it is hanging,
always dripping like rain.
Now here we are,
inside the keeping, again.
I have made our bed between
my secrets and your dreams.
Pay no mind to the echoes at night;
these halls have been painted
in crimson screams.
© Nicole Lyons 2017
Nicole Lyons 
This!!❤️❤️
LikeLiked by 2 people
You ❤ ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love can still live, even where the wall are painted in crimson screams. Yes!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Indeed it can, my friend
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
Nicole asserts love in spite of pain.
LikeLike
Oh god Nicole! I just can’t get enough of your works!
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a gorgeous comment, thank you so much
LikeLiked by 1 person
I would leave more of those comments, but I just never got the time to be here much. Well anyways, happy holidays! I am really hoping I can get my hands on your book 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Brilliant, as always. I, too, often “wonder what a quiet mind, full of light, would feel like”
LikeLike