how life desires….

I am softer shades of dark

this threaded light exists

I don’t have to imagine any more

I feel you so clearly

a shadow dancing upon the waters

there was always a beating resonance

a whisperend wind rippling the stillness

I have been swimming towards you

I am almost there

your shoreline shimmering…

are you exiting or entering

my depths

 

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a softer appreciation for what was…is…

I heard the sea pulse before

such magic held inbetween

the pink swirl of the shell walls

I giggle quietly because that feeling

of awe and wonderment still exists

somewhere buried inside of me

I think back to those tender years

and bow my head, close my eyes

remembering the scents that thrilled me

like lilacs and tea, watermelon juice on my chin,

the sea air, and pink bubble gum lipgloss

jaw breakers only made my tongue raw but I couldn’t resist

all the layers of ringed colors  and I would lick some more

how many times did I stain my lips with cherry & blue raspberry lollipops

 dreaming of when I could wear real lipstick… the empty sticks afterward became

the pretend cigarette…ever the dramatic feminine

I played the part well imagining my love being thrilled to kiss me deeply

even while I was angry…

as back then, so too now,

the butterfly still captures me with it’s delicate dance

I sometimes feel the young squeal of delight rise to my throat

when I seen them I can’t explain why

maybe I identify with their transforming vibration

I want to join in and land on the sofest parts of my lover’s heart

to just take off and be caught within his wind

I wonder if he would recognize me

if I fluttered across his path

how many nights did I sink deep into the

the bindings of books

finger trace the loops of words

guilty for the sound of a turning page at 3 am

 I existed again and again in every story

 while still young enough to think

that almost every dream will come true

that silence was my sweet refuge

laying alone, aflame, swollen

I knew of wonderment and things beyond my own comprehension

just an inner knowing, burning bright

so much so that I thought I would burst

such wildness designed in my heart

I am never myself when tame

I wasn’t long in youth when I felt the lashing

for being divine and captivating

engaging unafraid and unashamed

hated and scorned for standing in my beautiful skin

I don’t know when the veil started to fall

weighted by the messiness life handed me

 but I cloaked myself

 for far too long and carried razors in my pocket

 cruelty of abandonment and death were not the cause

rather the aftermath and the ties that bind

history comes back to haunt you every once in awhile

and venomous words linger longer than they ever should

I hid and found all too many dark places to stay

I didn’t know how to leave them

although I tried

it has been years and lifetimes I lay sleeping

sometime ago I wiped the sleep dust from my eyes

and saw how thick the vines and felt how dull my machete

There is a clearing in view full of illumined colors

maybe love will favor me there

Just breathe

 while walking, and hacking, and fighting my way to it

I don’t rest in the dark much any more

even though I still new to the light and respite is ever fragile and slow going

I am awakened…aligning

 learning to love even the ungraceful parts

I see now that I am housed, etched, and scarred art burned in flesh and bone

in this life, those dark scriptures will remain

as they are marrow of my soul

they are why I was born…

why I write

 

earthen layers…

The more layers I unveil

the more inconsistent the elements of me

I am at war within my soul and self

I thought I was moving forward

as a gentleness I have for myself

although, slowly coming into focus

nevertheless was rooting

I must for mission

embrace my every atom and cell

yet vengeful is the ego when you try to quell its lifeforce

she keeps singing that I am not good enough

that no one could love me

no one will fight for my heart…

return me to the stars

this lifetime

this lifetime…

I am still learning love

growing for

hurting for

dying

 

 

livening…

lacing of fingers

images of you

coursing my veins

pulse propulsions

chain reactions

feeling very piece of you

snaking me

you smell like honey and dew

and the sweet kissing of petals

heaving against my chest

cleave unto me

this tower rising of ache and moan

reaching for my throat

come draw it out of me

collapse me

come live as we breathe

unseemly…

It was a quiet morning Not unlike most mornings for her…she wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck, the place she carries her stress, and pulled it even tighter around her ugly truth, wishing she had remained aloof and anonymous.

She sips from her porcelain cup, in silent contemplation. Dreaming.  Wondering what it would be like looking at a woman’s reflection that says, self assured, strong and sufficient, confident in her stride, competent in her performance. Yet in the next breath the veil is so easily blown away. Revealing only a reflection of a woman falling short once again. A woman  lacking worth in her own eyes and in the eyesight of others. 

The only womanly things she possesses are passion and quiet femininity, which are not much to behold in such a judgmental world. These useless possessions lay under a coating far less desired than clothes of the same age, in better shape. How unseemly she remains to the outer fray.

She swallows a sip of cold coffee. How like her life that sip reminds her. They only desired her when she was hot & fresh. Scalding tongues with her flavor and boldness. She wasted her youth and her flavor now suffers. They must think she’s generic grounds…lacking 

She thinks of her mortality as her red painted nails trace the delicate lines of blue against pale flesh. Her mortality as thin as the inside of her wrist, one slip of a razor, blood spills in silence. One injection of poison, bloodsurge to her heart, stopping it. But doesn’t her heart stop daily when she awakens once again to the cold chill of silent grey walls? There is no relief of her heart’s aching. Or ceasing of her bloodflow…

Her sadness comes in waves, leaving as quickly as it arrives. As if to remind her that she is the wax and wane of tides. As unpredictable as the seas. A heart as heavy as salt. Love as strong as death.