Did I just imagine
that glint in your eye?
Was I mistaken to read
into your hug goodbye?

The more space I gave,
the closer you got,
and each move you made
was what my heart sought.

Did I just hope too much
that love could be real?
Was I a fool to think we
might have the real deal?

The night carried on
but our eyes always met
as a new day arrived,
We weren’t ready to leave yet.

Did you just imagine
I might be into you?
Well it wasn’t a mistake;
it was true.

© Autumn Siders 2017


You think I can’t hear you
just because my eyes are closed;
but every word you say,
lands on my ears exposed.

You lower your voice,
as if that changes a thing;
but a cat can hear the softest tune
that only the wind can sing.

That twitching of my whiskers
isn’t the result of a sweet dream;
any fool must know the sign
of when a cat’s working on a scheme.

© Autumn and Emilita Siders 2017


Each scar that you made,
I hold near to my heart
and remember in my soul
just why you chose to depart;
I choose to be better,
each and every day
knowing that each moment
a part of you slips away.

Each scar that I see
reminds me yet again
that it’s not a question of if,
but rather a question of when.

© Autumn Siders 2017


Trying to clean up your mess
is like trying to walk
through molasses,
with lead shoes,
and broken legs.

For every minute step I take
I find that
the molasses has risen,
my shoe have grown heavier,
and I am completely astonished
that I still have legs.

© Autumn Siders 2017

Go Away

Go away, can’t you see?
Here I sleep,
leave me be.

Go away, hurry now.
I need you not,
this I vow.

Go away, be a dear.
If I need you,
I’ll call you here.

Go away, I don’t have time.
Your high pitched voice
should be a crime.

Go away, and don’t come back,
unless you have a fish
I might cut you some slack.

© Autumn and Emilita Siders 2017

Island in the Sun

Stranded on the island
we know as life
in the middle of the ocean
filled with turmoil and strife.

We may well never be alone
but lonely we are for sure
since the flies buzz louder
than our ears can endure.

Not even the peaceful wake
can appease our hearts
and the sand underfoot
was but a pain from the start.

The tropical breeze
sends shivers to our souls
as the clouds form overhead
and our fire burns as coals.

Food is surely scarce
and water cannot be drunk;
like the boat that brought us here,
humanity has indeed sunk.

© Autumn Siders 2017