Have you been in a field of flowers
Yellow flowers in the sun!
Did you know they are always
turning
Always turning to the sun
Let us be like those flowers
Always turning to the light
Always sharing always caring
What a beautiful sight!

Shell ✨🐚

When you speak more with your poems than people these days, you know your mind is really more one with itself than another, and will be for a while. It has its beauty and is ultimately tragic, yet holds value and precious moments within itself. Leaving this place is difficult, but necessary when you near the end.

Think of your palate as the chess board of your creative life.
Play out each step as fully as possible until every player in the show is mesmerized by the substance of your continuous results and initiatives towards unwavering courage and success.

The smoke, not the fire,
Got in my eyes;
The idea, not my brain,
Lives on outside;
Our love, not the heart,
Allows us to thrive.
Long will we live
Long after we die.

i want to have a poetic death
the one where you stand on the edge
while the sun is barely peaking into the night sky
feeling the breeze kiss my skin
an unnerving calmness
falling through the sky
silently into the black river