Great events turn on small wheels
Great events often turn on small wheels. It is a gear shift that is not easily obtained.
With time thinning, moments to turn around for better is lessening.
We don't build without foundation, the pyramids also were not built overnight.
So to be wan and weary when the seemingly endless journey advances,
you realize pace is adjustable.
Baby steps are inevitable, but the worth of building up to better is just so patiently inclined.
Winter grew dead leaves and the trees went morbidly idle. Nights were earlier, and fights were a given. We threw our promises into the fire to get warm. Then the ashes turned into snowflakes that made us cold. I stand there watching the flames until they disappeared.
Revisiting you is being vulnerable. Physically you are not here. You scarred me where my skin would easily tear. I whined about financial black holes as you slammed a hammer without hesitating a single blow.
To accept and forgive, the band-aid had to come undone. I tore it off with the paramedics by my side. They were offering help but I could not share the pain with an innocent someone else.
A revisit to the past can’t **** you... would it?
what an unsuccessful dream
got me imagining i’m metamorphosing into some queen
gag me with a torch, not liable for these factions
don't put this on me, i was born into royalty
polish the handrails,
don't forget you can't be late.
fashionably late at best, when everything in reality is such a mess
curtsy my dear madam, or else you might be ******
"twirl around let me see those perky curls!"
why do i put you on a pedestal when all you do is drool over another's way
desire doesn't lay here with the underpaid service maids
father i'm so much stronger than the curtains or the drapes
hear me out for there isn't much time
i'm afraid the clocks passed nine and tea is in due time
i understand your master plan
it would be grand if i had a say in the upper hand
seems like you're golden
does it seem like you're weak oh because it does to me
A snagged branch I was when you brushed your shoulder against me.
Chills and goosebumps, you rewind to when I caught you by the edge of your torn up plain white tee.
I wrestle with the wind, for the breeze seems not to hit me. It leads me to the tree. Your forbidden fruit for me to only see, not touch.
I’m at my wits end with your trust.
Yet, it is a must that I can breathe without the touch of a man. Who would’ve have thought it’d be you to let go of my hand?
When my mind was buzzed, a sabertooth swallowed me whole.
His stomach wasn’t digesting me so there I was, just thinking about the life I had lived in the abyss of his stomach grits.
I wanted my body to explode in glass pieces and break through his skin to escape, but all I was doing was playing with a messed up fate.
As some would say, I made this arrangement to have this play date.
“People are crazy!” was their debate.
He wanted to satisfy his hunger, I wanted to succumb under the pressure and just accept what was whatever.
It had always been a possibility to be the target someday- so now I was the prey.
You can’t outsmart the hunter, you become meatier and meatier every day.
I have told.
I have sold.
I close off for a sense of simple.
What do I trust? Powders in a capsule or powers in what is said will come my way with time?
There is no no stuck if you choose to stay in the middle of the fork in the road. There is no lost if you choose to be alive.