Grey clouds surround me,
Thick to inhale,
Impossible to recognize shapes through

And then I feel it
All at once,
As if something deep from within tugs on every fiber of my being

I spin to face a shape assembling through the fog,
Slowly advancing,
Reaching out a hand that beckons my soul forward

Then I wake,
Pulled out of the dream,
Left wondering if it is possible to love a face that has never truly been seen?
  May 16 LexiSully
PoetryJournal
Humans crave for audience,
flowers quietly pray
for one view.
LexiSully May 5
You can feel it, can’t you?
In the shiver of your spine
The tingling of your toes
The goosebumps forming on your arms

The time is now
Close your eyes, breathe, and
Jump.
  May 4 LexiSully
PoetryJournal
What use is art
if only comprehensible
to the artist?
LexiSully May 4
Darkness floods the outside world,
Obscuring trees into uncertain shadows,
Allowing distant lights to grow or diminish depending on the distance in between

But the signaling of the train horn draws me back into the lit carrier,
My reflection and that of the cab slowly appear into view on the window
And I am back in my body

In the reality that clutches me.
  Apr 11 LexiSully
PoetryJournal
To
      be
            loved
                        is
                             simple,
                         ­    simply
                  begin
              to
     give  
love.
LexiSully Apr 10
Sitting out on the fresh green grass awakens something inside me.

The dampness of the ground slowly seeping through my blue jeans, the fresh aroma telling me that although the grass was freshly cut, it lives, breathes, and grows

Around me are ancient buildings, housing thousands of students, whose minds are alive—or, to be honest, are most likely half asleep

The mountains stand softly in the background, somehow still partially snow capped.
They form a security blanket, sad when we leave, but welcoming as we come back

And the sky—the brilliant blue majesty above—somehow envelopes all of this, as if it somehow knows each one of us

It holds the billowing white clouds that shape shift into almost anything my vagabond heart desires

The birds flying high in the sky talk with a sort of excitement, and fly away in a hurry

There is a hustle and bustle—people talking, airplanes flying, cars driving—that remind me I’m not alone

And you know what I taste?

Freedom
The freedom that allows me to be whatever and whoever I want to be.
It beckons me to explore every land and swim in every sea.
It shows me who I truly love and who I desire to become

This magical place—has allowed me to find me.
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