Weapons Drawn

Your side, my side:
definitive lines in the ground
Fingers crooked in eternal condemnation
every weapon drawn
What should be safe haven
is our own personal war zone
Who threw the first stone?

Dahlia

I can see her in my mind's eye and feel her in my heart: strawberry kisses and laughter like sunshine.
A child that pierces through my every shadow as though they didn't even exist. It's a delicious sort of ache that is hard to define: a desire that deepens and spreads to the tips of my toes and grows deeper as the years go by. How I long to watch her grow and progress, to make her first mistakes, to learn when to brush off the little blunders. I want to tell her that she is beautiful, because I know that she will be! She will be the brightest star in my sky, the most colorful sunrise, the most vivid painting I could ever dream of. She is my future heartbeat; she will be the blood that sings through my veins.