Rhymes, Writings, and Confessions to Small Crimes
www.madamchryzl.com
My Mawmaw… (arguably one of the most kick ass Southern women till the day she passed) would say:
“Baby girl, fix ya problems… Ain’t NO ONE else gunna do it forya. Life is hard and it won’t get any easier… So get use to it, sha.”
Miss you Mawmaw… I miss you lots…
MadamChryzl-
I married a ghost and fell in love with a dream…
Maybe it is not as bad as it may seem…
My ghost only haunts 100 days out of the year…. and well my dream, he was able to disappear…
Though they both are invisible and unable to be seen… Simultaneously, they are rather mean…
My ghost can speak and my ghost can laugh… But my dream, he lit a candle onto an unknown path… MadamC
My Heart is quite a fool… She is a continuous embarrassment of mine…
Although, she is quite punctual and hurts me all the time…
For over three decades she has deceived and mislead…
And a
All that I hear are hurtful laughs from my head…
“HA!
As if!”
“HA!
Get a grip!”
No need of convincing, I am a fool from tip to tip…
A toy amongst the tongues of silver and gold…
Never have I imagined hearts of ice could be this cold….
My heart hates me and I do not possess a single doubt…
Still, she remains a part of me that I just can not live with out…
Unwillingly, a Jester is what I shall remain…… She chose to stay with you; she is something only you contain. -Madamchryzl-
My Love, would you please light a candle for me?
Ignite a flame so that I might see…
I stumble in the dark and close my eyes in the light…
My hands hurt from holding on too tight…
There is no sense to be made…
Only tears to cascade…
A new season has risen since you fled…
Void of any sweet words to be read…
Your eyes only know what you have to see…
But I am blind, please light a candle for me…
*Madamchryzl*
Day 33
His presence was like static to her finger tips… Instantly, his shoulders had always belonged to her lips…
He made her pant and the air hard to breathe… All that he took; surely, he was a thief…
Uncommon and a sight, their differences were… The skeptics were a bore, or rather a blur…
Time and numbers were never very kind… He knew one day he would always leave her behind…
They filled a golden treasure box full of hours and days… As time moved on with out him; all that she was left was a tearful haze…
She sobbed and she wept; O her man of time… She mourned and faded over his ghost, over time…
Every morning and every night she prayed that she would hear; “I love you” once more… Till then; their locked treasure box was all that was left to adore… Madamchryzl…
Shakespeare wrote of baited breath as if he knew my love would be my death…
No glee or smile is true since you have left…
Not a tear has been spared. Not a word of honesty has been shared…I’m so uncertain and so very scared…
I mourn you day in and day out…
I am the only company Misery and Darkness will allow…
Broken and Sharp are my pieces; all scattered…
A ghostly mirror gravely fragmented; all shattered…
O Shakespeare, your tales of love and tragedy seems to by only life’s strategy…
