I have a sword.
My sword is my fountain pen.
It bleeds navy blood.
It is my soldier.
My sailor.
Personal tinker.
Begotten tailor.
Fashionable.
Passionate.
My own redeemer.
I have my own shield.
Feel it.
Green.
Bright.
Protective.
My hands hide behind it.
Safety in numbers.
I can count on my fingers.
If nothing else.
The words of my sword.
And the hold of my shield.
Always my wealth.
Protectors of health.
(c)LIVVI

The wind is my friend, always there when I need it.
Cooling me off in the hot summer,
The refreshing breeze helps me forget everything for a short time.

The cool bitter wind nips and my exposed skin;
Making me cold to the touch,
Just like you’ve left me.

The wind cleanses the toxicity in my life;
Otherwise known as you.
It purifies my soul.

The wind is my friend;
I can’t see it but I feel its presence,
Knowing it is always by my side.

The wind is everything you were not,
The wind is present,
The wind is there when I need it,
And most of all the wind will always come back to me;
Even if it goes away for a short while.

– Wind // F.C.