Battered & Abused Yet you still chose to Rise A man you thought you knew wore an ugly disguise Teeth kicked out your mouth what an ugly demise Battered & Abused Yet you still chose to Rise Through the ashes and the pain You changed Filled with Rage Of a Woman Trying to protect her Kin His Sin Was Unacceptable and your Grace so Impeccable Battered & Abused Yet you
In one hundred years, no one will remember I was here. Probably less, and I’m absolutely certain I’m okay with that. I have no children to hover or haunt, no one who will share memories or reminisce. I am absolutely 100% okay with that. Many of the people I loved and love will be gone too, and that makes me happy in a maudlin, relieved kind of mood. Life has
Time moves fast separating the then from the now What if I imagined a palm tree pause?There’s a place beyond the palms where the wind blows hot Where the sunshine is warm and sweetSavor the good fortuneDon’t sweat the small detailsLife is not supposed to feel only goodOr only badIt’s over in less than a minuteDon’t blink or you might miss itThe pink grains of miniscule seashells wash up on shore Sands of
I often wonder if I have enough faith to navigate my way in the world. I’m pretty sure I don’t. It’s the stubbornness that keeps me here, keeps me hurtling forward, running too fast to ever actually slow down. To just be. I’m a runner, I get that. I’m not in denial, pretending to be a different me. Have you ever stepped foot inside a temple of worship, and truly
It is after all, just a life. No bigger, no better. I have breathed more shades, more pain, more joy, more crazy, more fear, more sadness than I thought possible to carry in this one body. Death, song and daydreaming are my respites; temporary escapes from this swirling madness. I inhale deeply, the rich, sweet smells of nature flooding my senses. Music coursing the veins like venom. I wait for
Young girl filled with big dreams it’s fine to carry on, all grown even when you cannot do it alone. There will be others just like you who’ve survived the awkward teenager years, pimples, bruises and broken hearts. They’ll care enough to remind you how perfectly precious you are. It’s okay to fall or fuck up; when you’re doing your best. Life will get harder than you can manage, but
This picture popped up in my memories today on Facebook and made me smile. Michel and I fought, a lot. He thought I was spoiled. I was. We argued, a lot. I’d only learn in time and the passing of years what he meant. I learned so many lessons from him. How to live a simple life, to love and respect nature, to take long walks everyday, (like ten miles
Someday when I leave this place, I hope to be remembered as honest and kind through all the bullshit and blessings. I will miss the sun and her stars most, but not the moon. The dark night, backlit moon and I will meet again floating on waves of a different space and time carried by the winds of perpetual motion, emotion and love. To be well-loved even while selfish, childlike
Gypsies and Pixie Dust I exist therefore I am, mistakes and imperfections one and all. I don’t want to be considered an artist. I want to be thought of as a student of art. I want to ingest the human condition, live and breathe it. I want to eradicate all traces of ego and relate. I want to roam the globe and hear the stories, while not missing out on
Snow falls on the grass on this almost March day, trees already in prepubescent bloom. What the fuck is happening? Global warming has her own plans, shaking things up on this insignificant, tiniest piece of the puzzle, planet earth. She is happy for the ugly, backward mess. She won’t walk today, but will curl up in silence and self-protection closing her eyes instead; drifting off and dreaming about the walkabout will suffice. In her dreams