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Faith. Hope. Love.
I don't have answers. I don't really know much.
But I know that those things ignite something in your heart, casting away the darkness of fear and regret.

When the cobwebs in the basement are cleared, you find all your old dreams hidden in corners you forgot about.

And when you pound your fist in the dirt, and say enough is enough... I'm not here to survive, I'm here to LIVE... to laugh and play and realize my deepest passions... to find the ocean of joy and invite everyone I know to swim in it with me. To love myself daringly; to dance with the darkness of my fears and invite their lessons in.

Something doesn't have to change. Everything has to change.
I'm not interested in being right anymore.
I'm interested in being ALIVE.

When you commit these things to yourself, and fight for love, for hope, for the adventure of really living all the way... something happens.

Something flips inside you, and heaven begins pounding at your door.

Life has always waited patiently on you to stop waiting patiently.

Adventure isn't around the corner. It's hiding underneath your heart.

Right here. Right now.
The beating of my heart... measured into words. Happy New Year. Contact me at awakenedimagination@gmail.com to share your feelings on my work. :)
She was hunted by a witch,
Who was to **** her
By the name of white.
She sent the woodsman
To put an end to her young life.

Caught up in the woods,
She begged for her life,
On her knees, she did the deed.
Wood was in her mouth,
  Down the back of the throat licking
Lips after the deed.

Be gone said the woodsman,
She had secured her freedom.
She did run, into the woods
she found a home,
She smashed a window to escape
the cold.

She undressed and lay on the bed.
Asleep she did fall, then awoken,
She was startled as seven little men
Stood around the bed.
Do you like what you see?
If you let me hide here,
I will thank you in ways that a princess is taught,
I can be naughty as well as nice.

They talked and said all right,
She pleasured most of them through out the night.
Happy was used and abused,
But he left the room smiling from left to right.
One did leave the room with a grumpy face,
He liked his kin and sleeping with a woman
Had never felt right.

So through the night,
She showed them things
That only princes usually get to see,
And for a while they lived all happily.

Her name was white,
But she was anything but that.
She had the stamina
To keep these little men all happy,
Content they could live with that.

But time went on,
The queen had found by rumour,
Where she not so pure was at.
A plan was made to
End her life.

A candy apple sold at the door,
She said her thanks an shut the door.
She liked hard things in her mouth,
Licked with her tongue,
Took a bite and passed out.

She was found
When the little men came home.
In tears they where,
As they would once again
Have to use the wooden doll.
Splinters were never fun to pull out,
Used by many it was cleaned a lot out.

She was put in a casket made of glass,
Still a beauty to behold.
As word spread,
Princes from across did try to find.
But only one had found white,
A kiss on the lips
Would break a curse out right.

His lips pressed hard,
and a confused look,
as the kiss was salty on his lips.
Happy smiled as he didn't have a care,
A mouth is a mouth warm it was
When he pushed it in and out.
So he used it to satisfy his urges,
No one would know
As he did it in the dark of night.

She awoke startled,
So much time had past.
I am your prince,
I heard tale of a gargling princess
named as white.

They travelled the land
To avenge her near death,
By the queen of night.
Swords drawn,
The seven little men by her side,
They confronted the queen.

She said do you know what she did?
This woman called white.
She slept with my son,
My husband and me.
Turning each against the other,
Until I was the only one left out of three.

Her name is white,
But she is any thing but that.
She will turn one against the other.
She must die for her crimes against me.
With that the prince looked on,
As she said all is true.

But queen you liked what I did
Before you found out,
That I played your family.
You all got what was deserved
I have no regrets with that.

Then with sword in hand
She killed the queen
With a sword through the heart.
She turned her sights
On the eight men.
The prince fought well
But she was too good.
His head left his shoulders
Ending his life.

The seven were no match for her.
Drenched in red,
But named white,
As all were slain.
She smiled sitting at her rightful place,
The queen of white
That went on to conquer many lands
 Dressed in red but named white.
I’m done
With the *******
I’m done with the lies
I’m done with the tears flowing out of my eyes
I want to be happy
That is my only goal
To be happy
Before I lose my soul
I’m done with worrying about being alone
I need to embrace it
Pick up the phone
People do love me
Or so they say
It’s enough to keep me going
For another day
I reread the same books over and over
And I don't care how many reasons you have to hate the series
These books are like people
Sure, they have flaws
But I love them for everything they are
I see their beauty, not their mistakes
I will always love them
Because they were my escape
When everything was crumbling
They were my friends
When people weren't
And rereading them
Reminds me
Of how beautiful it was
To escape
I don't care if you hate them
Just like people, if you don't like them, leave them alone
No on is forcing you to associate yourself with them
You don't need to go around spreading news about their flaws
Because you have many of your own
My emotions
Are connected to those books
Because they saved my life
So leave them alone
sick of hearing what is "wrong" with the books that got me through suicidal times
Purposeful relapse, but with a time limit.
So it doesn't go too far.
You figure it out. I will be okay if I do this. Two weeks. That's it.
I always feel like there is someone choking me, tying impossible amounts of knots into the noose they have strung around my neck and used as a leash.
Some once called him a Grand Old Man,
Others called him a slime,
You couldn’t get a consensus that
Was even, all the time,
For some kow-towed to his money, while
Others fell by his sword,
His life was overall sunny, while
His victims quailed at his word.

He lorded it over his children,
He ruled their kids with ease,
A sullen look from beneath his brow
Would bring them to their knees,
His will was forever changing
As solicitors came and went,
One day he’d offer a mansion,
And another day, a tent.

When he finally died he was stony broke
And they wondered where it went,
He’d always been abstemious
But the money had been spent.
He left all their lives in ruins with
Their expectations gone,
A couple of ramshackle houses were
The only things they won.

There wasn’t the money to bury him
So they left him where he sat,
Up at the head of the table in
His black, beribboned hat,
He glared at them as he’d glared in life
One hand on the table-top,
Where he used to tap with his finger
As if it would never stop.

Tap-tap-tap on the table-top,
Tap-tap-tap it went,
His eyes bored into the back of your head
As if to say - Repent!
And people scurried, this way and that
To divine what the tartar meant,
The grim old man in his black top hat
Who ruled to their detriment.

They left him sat and they locked the door
Didn’t go back for a year,
Til the eldest, saying ‘let’s know for sure,’
Returned with a tinge of fear.
‘He might have stocks in his waistband there
Or shares hid under his shirt,
Or cash stuffed in his beribboned hat -
He treated us all like dirt!’

He ventured into the dining room
Where the grim old man still sat,
His eyes a-glare in the year long gloom
From under the brim of his hat.
But as the eldest approached him there
The finger began to tap,
A steady rap with a note of doom
That would curdle blood to sap.

So Toby dived to the tinder box
And he leapt up with the axe,
His face as pale as a ghostly tale
But determined to attack.
He raised the axe and he let it fall
Severed the finger there,
It skittered across the table top
As the old man fell from his chair.

The stocks were stuffed in the old man’s hat
The shares were stuffed in his sleeve,
And so much cash in his waistband that
They said, you wouldn’t believe.
But still he’s locked in that grey old house
For they found it wouldn’t stop,
That severed finger that skittered there
Still taps on the table-top!

David Lewis Paget
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