Tag Archives: poem



I fall into love

You may say in love

I say fall into love

It’s a rabbit hole

I am Alice and I have lost my mind and I’m too late

I see you in the looking glass

And I feel your lips touch mine

I am on fire

And you don’t know but I stalk you with my daydreams

I imagine the conversations that wrap me up tenderly

And make love with my soul

That caress me with understanding and lips

And fingertips gently reading me like a blind man exploring

A velvet painting

You may say in love

I say fall into love

I feel you, the tips of my fingers stroking the satin smooth skin at the base of your back  

And I tremble

As your arms pull me into the wonderland of your mind

And I am taken by you

Into love and ecstasy

The butterflies in my stomach

Settle as the day dream gives way

But I am haunted

By you


© Christie Marie Kruger 2014


Invisible story

I don’t exist… those weren’t the words precisely

But the sword cut deep and clear,

“We have loved him always, you were never there”

My name it has no memory

It has never passed his lips

So they ask who I am to him, do I really exist.


I look at the walls of memory I have created out of love

I note that I’m barely included, well there are two moments of drunk bliss

The perfect little pictures of smiles and hugs and love

The hundred memory mentions, I am not part of this


I wanted to explain, defend my place and truth

But the evidence is clear, it’s a truth I can’t resist.

In every precious moment, something is amiss

The ugly truth is realised, if I’m not needed I’m not missed.

I am an invisible story.

© Christie Marie Kruger 2014


Enter the monster that consumes my bliss;

Black shadows roll in and drown my happiness;

With practiced perfection I smile to eyes

That cannot see deeper than their own cries.


Enter the truth, wielding its sword;

Slicing denial, the emotions do pour

Into a pillow, the safest of cages

One day I will write those tears onto pages.


My movie of wishes is fading from mind;

What future is this that love cannot find?

The tremor, the lump that my throat tightens around

The feelings I wish I had never found.


I swallow the scream and block out the cold

This heart of mine is a story untold.

I paint over the pain with a bright sunny streak;

This anguish I feel can never speak.


I smile for the cameras, the eyes that seek weak

And listen intently while the whole world speaks

Of their hurt and their pain and unfairness of life

While I am cut deeply by life’s cruel knife.


I stand tall, my decision solid,

That I would love without requirement

This is my choice to set love free

This pain is a decision that I made for me.


This moment is my self-made reality.

© Christie Marie Kruger 2014

Gifts without ribbons

You will haunt me all my days

Your essence etched in to my soul

As I bid you farewell

I absorb the pain of letting you go into the hope of freedom I have for you

I will love you all the days of my life and honour that which you have taught me.

I will carry with me all the love you have shown me and the world you have opened my eyes to

I will use the lessons you have gifted me to move forward in my life knowing that love does not own or possess or tie down, but encourages, nurtures and respects

That life is a sequence of miracles, opportunities and adventures;

To be curious and childlike, to be fearless and gentle.

To be unique and steadfast in honouring my dreams and who I am. 

You have taught me to love freely, to dream big, to laugh loudly, to be passionately curious and to never give up on what I want no matter who says it’s impossible, no matter who says it isn’t “normal”.

You have been my lover, my friend, my challenger, my hero, my teacher.

Now it’s time for you to fly and become all you are destined to be.

And one day everyone else will understand that letting you go was the greatest gift of love I felt could give you.


© Christie Marie Kruger 2014

Truth in Mysterious Code (I posted this in October when I had one follower… so here it is again)

In a physical pain without diagnosis or cause;

through the journey of lucidity and further to dreamscape;

the clarity of concious and subconscious

unifying in truth It is now known to me.

I question my motives;

and comprehension descends

Of my self denial;

Why can I not read or feel the connection,

it has slowly weakened;

Why is my body racked with pain that jolts me in waves of torture;

Had I denied you so much;

Do I deny myself so much;

Committed to my own certainty of platonic adoration; and respectful love;

I am told that I must deny my heart and so I bury it beneath something larger than I;

And here now I stand with two truths;

equal disasters equal ecstasy

and I stand

I cannot;

will not

shall not move. © Christie Marie Kruger 2013

One Month


Dear Charlie Brown

Well here we are again.

This time is different though, because we only have one month.

One month to love without expectation.

One month to live in the moment, without looking back or forward.

One month to spend together before it’s over, before you spread your wings and fly off into your life.

You will always be my favourite hello and worst goodbye, so I won’t think about that. I will focus on us, on fun times and childlike games, on making memories.

I want to swim in the rain and walk on moonlit beaches.

I want to spend money I shouldn’t, playing arcade games and eat food that goes straight to my hips.

I want to go to sleep listening to your heart beat

A perfect rhythm that rocks me to sleep like a lullaby.

I want to wake up with our legs entwined and our bodies saying a prayer.

No promises, no lies.

Just you and me against the world.  As it always is with us.

One month to listen to your mind race in a hundred different directions, making perfect sense to only me.

One month to listen to your laugh, to have you smile and know it’s for me and about me. One month.

One month to smother each other in a love so deep, we have always been afraid to show it.

One month to love each other without that fear, a free love,

Like soulmates meeting and passing on a journey of a thousand steps, we stand on this step for one month, then continue into our lives, with just the essence of each other creeping into our dreams at night to hold us in the comfort that we once loved without chains and boundaries, without expectations.

One month.

One month of dreams come true and laughter that comes from so deep within me I scarcely recognise it as it cascades out of me.

One month. And I will love you. I will love you.


Lots of Love

The little Red-haired girl





Bumper Cars with Hearts

We’re a tragic comedy of errors and fate;

Too short to ride the roller-coaster, too big for the teacups;

Standing face to face, in a room of trick mirrors;

Yet we reach out and touch hands; then turn our backs to each other;

Still holding gaze in reflection.

The fortune teller says we will be together forever;

we laugh and go our separate ways

and find each other at the same shooting table aiming for the same prize.

We keep going full circle and landing up where we started/ended/started/ended,

the distinction has become blurred,

we’re bumper cars with hearts and tears. © Christie Marie Kruger 2013



I’m running

Running so fast. Trying to outrun what is behind me, trying to outrun tomorrow while the ghost of your love chases me.

I have to keep running; outrun the shadows of lust and love that swarm around me; outrun the promises that turned into lies because if they catch me

they will entomb me.

So I keep running and my chest burns and salt water drips from my pores and my eyes as my heart rate accelerates trying to keep up with my swift shallow breathing and I keep running.

I keep running. I have to outrun the fingers of memories that threaten to tie me down for eternity

I keep running

I keep running toward what I hope to god is a rainbow and not an illusion I keep running afraid to look back at the mayhem behind me that I had a hand in and I keep running and your voice echoes through me

and I tremble.

I’m running

trying to outrun a fate that will bend around time and catch me.

© Christie Marie Kruger 2013

I see you.


are a beautiful soul, an enlightened soul, an old soul,

deserving of all the wonders and blessings life has to offer.

on a journey of such splendour with an inner brilliance and truth that radiates in such a way that, I, even though so far, feel your presence, intensity and passion.

On your journey I pray you are bathed in the magnificence of miracles and enlightenment;

That life lifts you to a higher consciousness, and reveals to you, as you grow, the answers that so few dare to seek.


are a beautiful soul, an enlightened soul, an old soul, a soul worthy of awe and wonder,

I acknowledge you

I see you.

© Christie Marie Kruger 2013

A string of moments

I remember once, holding onto my past with all my might, wishing and hoping with every part of me that time would rewind, and the space in between would not matter, and life would pick up at a happy memory and go on the way I wanted it to.

I remember once, knowing without doubt, that I knew what should have happened, how it should’ve happened and what should not have happened and that everything that had occurred behind me was a grave mistake that the universe would undo once she realised the error of her ways.

I remember once, fighting against every new chance, every new opportunity, bathing myself in the old and lost and not forgotten, desperately clinging to an idealised movie of my past as though it was the only truth, enveloping myself in the bubble wrap of defiance.

I remember, deciding to let go and discovering that it could not be done in one moment but that it was a string of moments woven together by courage and hope that made possible a new path, a string of moments, both torturous and exquisite.

I remember, the moments that took me forward and the moments that took me back, swinging between the yearning of the past and the craving for the future, a string of moments that slowly began writing a new chapter I had not noticed I had began.

I remember the moment where I looked back and the past had become my history.

© Christie Marie Kruger 2013


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