On Loan

I've always only ever had you for a moment.

Long enough for you to hold me, warm me, kiss me.

Deep enough to get lost.

Sustained enough for it to take longer to find my way back, return, or exceed to when my eyes are dry and my thoughts are mine.

©Elizabeth Zsamboki

Henceforth

I persist my life at thirty and a half
wise and ready to take what's next at hand
my feet are strong but my heart is weak
my soul is hungry but my mind will speak
I will fly, land, and feed
alone and free, I'll take what I need
no longer can I, will I, should I bleed
My soul, my heart, I will lead
God will guide the stones that slow my speed.
©Elizabeth Zsamboki

Longing Disillusion

Dreading the heavy sand on my eyelids
fear of not controlling my dreams to only imagine you
apprehension of the truth that scolds from my subconscious
warnings that I am able to ignore when my eyes are open and thoughts are mine.
evidence the window of truth can trick one's mind…
as I'm sure I kissed you last night while my eyes were closed and the moon was high.
yet I have no memory of ever landing on a pillow,
and THAT morning…certain I swept my eyes.
©Elizabeth Zsamboki

Unreachable

I believe in destiny, so I'd like to send a message and place it in the sea
If it reached you, then I'd know that You and I were meant to be.
How long must I wait for destiny to deliver a bottle of hope…
if you never walk along the shore?
©Elizabeth Zsamboki

Motivation

My heart and soul move my feet, my speech, my dreams…
when they are dark, they kill my speed, stop my beat, flood my eyes, drain my spirit, and drown my light…
Curse of a hapless romantic with an absent prince charming.
Jokeless horses drift on a cloud returning in the morning as dew on the leaves…
in the fall, turn brown, drop, crumble into dust, blow away in the winter's wind…
Frostbitten fingers unable to gather, hold, grip what floats in the midst's.
Unrecognizable pieces lay desolate on the ground…
Easier to allow the elements to bury them deep within the earth.
Attempts to rekindle what has already been lost and now belonging to the wind
IS exhausting, unredeemable, and pretentious
to believe that one is more worthy and powerful than fait, destiny, and God himself
for he controls the horses, dew, leaves, and wind.
I control my heart, my spirit, my light, my love.
©Elizabeth Zsamboki

Untitled

Familiar rhythm from my heart knocking at the palm of his hand
revealing secrets years I've kept sacred in my heart.
unreturned understanding, meaning, and feeling
transcended from his words, landing drops of spit like acid on my cheeks
revealing secrets he's kept clever in his silence,changing my rhythm to a slower beat
proverbial enigmas sifting in my mind knocking at the walls of my lips
lacking courage, faith, and ability to translate why his hand I took that night
swallowing words like knives, a fire landing in my belly, blanketing the light of my spirit.
asking God to send the rain and drown the flames that are transforming my love into ash.
©Elizabeth Zsamboki