Oh butterfly,
You visited me
In times of sorrow
In times of need
You eased my pain
But strange you came
In a cold November day
So gently I let you go
The next day you returned
Back once again on a wall
As if watching out for me
I know your soul, oh butterfly
Of the garden you tended
I loved as a child
So now I will miss you
With tears in my eyes
My father shall miss you
My siblings shall miss you
Your grandchildren shall miss you
All of the family shall miss you
But come the Summer days
As the children see a butterfly
That makes them smile
With the beauty it holds
I know it is really you
Always watching over us
My mother so deeply missed

Soft, glowing touch of iridescent blue
Gently caress the splintered skin
Stretched tightly around knuckles
Which wouldn’t give in,
I’ve been keeping my eyes open
Been bloodshot and shining
From the beauties and tragedies
Yearning, striving desire
Relentless tug underneath
Hidden door locks and silver keys
Not even your sound can wedge
Between what can truly be mine

Attempting to save myself
In this vast, scouring island
Mainland and archipelagos,
There must be room for me
On any continent
Foreign tongue, smooth and rolling
Startling realities, alters festering
With those candles lit and eyelashes picked
Dreams and wishes laid down to rest and die
But no worries, I’ll save myself
I have a paddle and boat
Sometimes the bitter dark waters surface,
And horizons gloom and tragedy thunders,
But either way I’ll survive
And circumnavigate the globe
Meeting others with paddles of their own
Searching for new horizons
A familiar shape of mountain range

I don’t need life insurance
I need a life ignition

Where are the keys?

I see the pavement,
it's so close up ahead
can feel the engine revving
the cool, sweet wind
flickering past the window
or the headlights flickering
on the curving, wet concrete

I can taste it,
the salt in the air
can hear the music singing

I can touch it,
feel it,

I just need the keys.

" There is a name of God on every
Child's lips, and the word is
Mother"

    I looked upon her body
That began to leave itself
Suddenly into some stairway
I could not see in my grief.
    
    Mother of the Light,
You took the dawn with you.

The gilded heights that took
You, not the blameless bullet,
But the fleece of flesh you wore,
Now shed to spread your wings,
       Watch over you children's
Children mother of biological blood.
   Cover every atom, every electron,
With your mist that went away in
A flash, your delicate nature be blessed
Hovering over the earth.

    Ceremony of children,
Loving a mother never stops.

I avoid ppl
I've been
Officially broken
Now I have to
Rebuild myself
At home

What is being beautiful?
Is being beautiful about the greatest figure?
Or who has taken the most pictures?

For me,
Being beautiful has less to do with looks,
and more to do with heart.
The way kindness seeps in at the start,
it would transform people to a work of art.
Beautiful isn't in the physical appearance,
It isn't about acne and clearance,
it is the one that you hold dearest,
As though their heart is of solid gold,
so the saying that is quite old,
'Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder',
so when models give of a cold shoulder,
Or the way celebrities form boulders,
From the bodies of their fans,
so amongst the waving hands,
I can truly say, not everyone is beautiful...

Beauty doesn't stem from the eyes,
It stems from a beautiful heart,
Beauty doesn't stem from a disguise,
It stems from a kind finish and a kind start.