Siren Whispers

Siren Song


Lies and betrayal

There’s a lot said about grace

and letting go of hurt and anger,

but they never tell you how to manage that.

One day you’re fine and the next day knocked senseless

by yet another wave you didn’t see coming.


You start to wonder if the lies told about you

by someone who should have known better,

who should have known you,

were told to another 

and now that person looks at you differently,

treats you differently.


When does this end?

When does it stop stinging?

When can you truly move on?


You know you will never get any recompense or apology,

and truth be told they probably still think they were right and justified …

but is it ever justified to speak ill of another when you can simply talk to them?


It is their own wounded pride talking,

you were just the fall guy for people who wouldn’t be straight with you.

You tell yourself you are letting it go,

you’ve chosen not to pursue it or make your feelings known,

it’s water under the bridge.

Only it’s not. 

Because suddenly the current picks up and washes that fragile structure away,

and you are reminded of all you tried to forget.

Your attempt at grace feels flat

and the flavor left behind is not one you want to taste again.


Yet you do,

because the repercussions of this act reverberate

and it becomes a wound that never quite heals.

The place they held in your heart becomes a mess of scar tissue you run your fingers over, reminding you to caution yourself,

because when push comes to shove


with some people


you think you have a place by their side

but you’re about to be thrust off a cliff.


Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken by SirenSong1208


To drown

A heart wide open

with nothing to buoy her

amid crested waves

falling beneath the surface

to drown of her own volition

in a sea of empathy

a relentless tide that spills

over her

pulling and pitching her headfirst 

into the deep

the darkness feeding

her exhaustion.


Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced


Beneath the surface

The older I get,

the more I realise

just how like the sea I am.

It was always blue to me,

that liquid expanse of horizon.

Melancholic with longing.

A churning, churlish mass of feeling,

everything happening beneath the surface,

much like my own insides.

A soul at turns calm or chaotic.

But as quickly as it is stirred,

bellowing forth with a tempest of emotion,

it is released and gentles itself.

Changeable tides

that ebb and flow as response,

some inner metronome

that keeps a steady beat

like my heart.


Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from White Noten, unsourced

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I am not made of stone

I am not made of stone.

I have been told

That I wear my heart upon my sleeve

That my writing tells all.

While my writing is imbued with

My thoughts, my feelings, my desires

I write only what I want known.

I am a world of private thoughts and feelings

Pain and joy

Mine to share

If I desire.

You will not find me crying publicly

But that does not mean I don’t hurt

It does not mean that the tears I shed

Don’t run hot down my face

When I am alone.

I am not made of stone

I get confused and frustrated

I have feelings

I have pride

I can be hurt by unkindness

By insensitivity

Especially when it’s unwarranted

Though you’ll never know how much.

 No, I am not made of stone

I am made

Of heart

And soul


*Not a new piece but always relevant, always me.

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2015

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced


The Key


Entrusted with a skeleton key

No ordinary key

It fit the lock around one heart only

There was nothing to identify where the key would fit

But he knew instinctively it was hers

Precious as her heart was to him

He kept the key close to his own

Photo taken from Pinterest


Her Heart


Her heart was gentle

And when she loved

She loved deeply

But it was the rare guest

Who was allowed

Such propinquity

To her and her heart

Photo taken from Pinterest