We all are born drowning in reverse from the watery womb blood and breath, we merge naked.

Slowly losing energy every molecular dies.

High tide low tide,
up and down the river we climbed, we all are born to rise and fall, six feet under the cold hard stone choking on the earth until our bodies are bones.

Holy no, no one can control it
oh no oh Lord no... Deaths following always at my heels waiting for my days to end.

Here I am still drowning in reverse waiting for the ship to take me to heavens glory. I've been surfing on high tides up and down the rivers grind.

©️ 2024 By Amanda Shelton

Unrelenting is the winter--night
        I'm yet to cover so many miles
       bitter winds smite my pale face
       all my longing heart knows is sighs-

       no wrong have I done
        songs is all I write
       love is loath to come my way
       consolation is not in sight-
  
      an *****-grinder I meet
      he says:  Lost we are--you and I
      homeless and loveless without hope
     it'd be a blessing this night to die'-

     I can see tears in his eyes
     and with these words I reply:
     I'm the composer of Winterreise
    a song I'll sing now--as the dying leaves drift by

I overslept again today.
Terrified of living life.

Too afraid.
To chase the sun.

I wish on the stars.
To play their part.

Wondering if I will ever be,
Good enough?

To live the life I've always dreamed.
Instead of falling fast asleep.

There's no room for me to breathe.
Suffocating and sabotaging.

The life I want for the life I don't.
Wasting away another day.

Running on empty.
Will it always be this way?

Instead I'll fall fast asleep.
Dreaming of what my life could be.

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Not the art of speaking
      but that of not-speaking
      which is the more important thing

I am an unknown writer
  not agonised if plagiarised
  instead would be taken to delight
  with a great element of surprise

for my limits I know so well
thousands of writers out there
have so many great things to tell
these folks would detect  at once I'm only hot-air!

painting it white

found

the former looked cream after thirty years in air

and wondered a while if it was actually cream initially

&

not white?