500 years alone
Born out of ashes
To die in flames
Body covered in gashes
From years of abuse
Times are not what they used to be
Out in they open
A rare sight to see
Clothed in red and gold
And framed in fire
An icon of hope
And ones hearts desire
A time for renewal
To be reborn
Time does things to one
Tired and worn
One last sad song
A nest of incense and sticks
Out of the fires cold burnt ashes
Revived is the Phoenix

It all kind of hurts
Ok not kind of
it really hurts.
And it hurts more often than it doesn’t
But when it doesn’t
Oh, let me tell you about when it doesn’t hurt.
When I can feel the air I breathe
The languid drifting thoughts just before sleep
Those incredible moments when the only tears rolling down my cheeks are happy ones
When it doesn’t hurt, I see myself as limitless. Boundless.
I can be confident.
I feel beautiful, and loved.
The sweet world wraps its arms around me
And I am safe.
But it all kind of hurts
And that hug becomes a chokehold
And I feel ugly and ignored.
I am scared
When it hurts I am limited and trapped
And the tears turn into sobs
Making the thoughts of the night, terrors
And
I
Can’t
Breathe

Accidents,
Disasters,
Wars,
Death...

Why blame it all on God?

Walls collapse
Bridges crumble

Letters burn
Voices fade

Ringing stops
Bodies shiver

This is life
And death is her sister