My dreams have shrunken and changed with you.
You are molecular;
A study in virology.
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 1:40 AM UTC
Her desire to explore her soft innocence was greater than any fear of eternal damnation ever was.
The promise of eternal hellfire seemed a small price for the sweet centre of heaven.
Crave. Indulge. Forgiveness. Nirvana.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 10:16 PM UTC
Lost something that I never had.
Found something that I lost when I lost it.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 10:16 PM UTC
It’s a beautiful morning for ******* things up.
I love to see a day unfold.
Unravel. Collapse. Recover.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 10:16 PM UTC
As a small child, I would lay awake in darkness and fear.
A crowded world of little girls, shielding their tiny bodies
with blankets from the pitch of dark and the imaginary monsters within it;
I lay awake fearing, what was then, the reality of hellfire and demon possession.
That was my greatest fear.
Oh. And tigers.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 10:15 PM UTC
I am powerful.
Whether of mind, body or spirit,
I am one of the most powerful people I know.
I will it and I am.
We are all powerful beyond our own comprehension.
When we become aware of our sheer power;
our potential to change, love, create, hate, destroy,
the greatest power we hold is in the harnessing of them;
the power over oneself.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 10:15 PM UTC
I love mornings like these;
the subtle promise of the bitter cold to come,
met by the tenacity and warmth of the autumn sun.
It almost makes me want to go out and do something great…
Almost.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 10:14 PM UTC
False prophet.
Web of lies.
Preying, grooming, seducing and sustaining
with the delusions of your own mind.
Grooming.
Grooming.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 10:14 PM UTC
I woke up not long ago, lay there in bed awhile. My head hurt. Luxuriate.
Eventually, I forced myself up, padded to the kitchen and noticed every soft swoosh of my feet on the hardwood floors, the blanket of fog that lay over the city, every glint of light fighting to enter my world and every colour on every flowering plant in the room. Setting the coffee maker, I returned to the room and sat cross-legged on my yoga mat (if only for a minute). Something was different. Something had changed.
Then I realized that in my grief, and for three months, I had forgotten how to breathe.
Today, I breathe.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 10:14 PM UTC