Born with thorns like her soul was the perfect description of a gift and curse in human form. Change was not what she ever wanted however, circumstances never made them unlimited. Her outstretched hands were for help and love but they got full with demands from people who still reprimand. Keeps her circle tight like as if she could make it wider if she had a chance. In this messed up world, damaged souls treat her as if she is the problem to their sorrows. But then, she will bloom and grow again because she lives as the root and a perfect one to loot

Just tell me,
"Why do I always have to save you?"
Of all people, why me not Jenny?
Just why would they blame me?
Am I not enough for mommy and daddy?
Why must you sacrifice me?

The local convenience store dealers lean on glass windows with ****** pupils scanning the parking lot for any takers. I pump my gas on station four and spy from afar. Don’t make eye contact or that means you’re interested. No buyers yet. What do you suppose is on the menu for today? Judging from the amount of zombies I’ve seen pushing stolen shopping carts a block away from here, I’d say smack. Tar. Black. ******. Whatever they call it where you’re from. Welfare bodies withered down to just flesh hanging from bone, wandering around aimlessly for their next fix. I’ve only ever tried it once; I was curious and sad and it was there—in Violet’s hand and then in my lungs. Do you think my mother would cry out in those disgusting sobs of snot and heaves of not-being-able-to-breathe-tears if she knew? Do you think my sister would look at me with that glare of judgmental disapproval because yet again, here’s an example of why I’m the family ****-up? Do you think my father would smack me upside the head and call me a *******? Probably. And do you think my third and sixth grade teachers who told me I should one day do something with my writing would be gasping in disappointment? Definitely. The gas pump clicks off. A potential customer staggers across asphalt to meet his makers and I am no better than he is at this very moment.

There was a village
Called Ludnica in maps
Quite old and vintage
The population reached 100 at max

It was known far and wide
For it's weird rules
Everyone had to abide
And dress like white ghouls

Half of them were blacksmiths
Working day and night
Others had to submit
And were to be polite

Every once in a while
Another black sheep would appear
Some even hostile
Not understanding why they were there

Then the blacksmiths' work would restart
They chipped away the metal chains
Reshaped the mind part by part
Untill the sickness didn't remain

"Where was this Ludnica?"
You might ask
But don't search for it
Because it will find you at last

At times  I find myself blocked.
Stopped, unable to move forward.
Standing still, as the days pass me by.

Lost dreams, lost hopes.
Lost loves, lost friends,
Lost parents, siblings and children.
Lost heart, Lost soul.

Enter, exit, enter again and turn left
Or was it right?
May I go forward? Stop and  await.
Do this! Don't do that!
They are wrong. We are right!
Over manipulated. Over controlled.
Enough!!!! No more!!!

Watching loved ones leave
Never to return again.
Broken hearted,
Longing throbbing pain.

So easily distracted by appetite
The smells and enticing words
"Massaman curry with rice with spring rolls
A slice of cheese, with date or olive
Lost in tasting, numb in feeling....
Eating myself into the land of oblivion
Drifting, floating, never to return.

It came quickly!
The rain fell hard in my summer!
Can you see us?
Everyone in their own storm.
Oh, please be still my restless soul.

Watching "them" drawing up schemes
Complaining maneuvers and attacks
Smiling smugly, together
under their "justified" umbrella.
I turned my energy away.

The wind continues to blow
And the rain continues to fall
Do I give into despair?
Or take courage to persevere?  
Courage my friend.  
A  glorious choice, courage!

Moving gracefully through the storm
Calm stillness begins
Facing the sun
The shadows fell behind me.
"What if I grab the silver lining?
Will my life be forever changed?"

I am not a lone "Black Sheep" in this rain.
Each of us in line, shedding our fleece.
Letting it go, as white feathers
Gracefully floating higher
Upon sunbeams Home.

The storm continued as I built my  new home.
Among the quiet of the fragrant cedars
Maples, birch and pine.

The fragrance of the wind
and the touch of the rain
Now fills  my senses!

Opening, freely.
Spirit Dancing in the Rain!
My senses love the spring,
Summer and the fall rains!!

It was in this moment the clouds parted.
Revealing a flowing rainbow
With  vibrational colors of resonance
A phi ratio within each color
Singing, songs, and connecting
Each strand of my human DNA.

A smile expressing itself
Thousands upon thousands of Colors!
An adventure within each
New sunny and rainy day!!
Oh, how I love, this sweetness in life!!!

I'm sorry I'm the ***** up mum
I wish I was the daughter
That you could admire
Instead I just destroy
Everything I desire


I'm sorry I'm the ***** up mum
And I'm not like the siblings you love
I promise you that I'm trying
But I know that it will
Never quite be enough

I'm sorry I'm the ***** up mum
The others seem to find it so easy
I wish I could breeze through life
Without a care
Just like the others

I'm sorry I'm the ***** up mum  
I promise you I'm working
Towards a better future for us all
Even if it feels like
It's just a steady crawl

I'm sorry I'm the ***** up mum
I love you more than words can say
I would do absolutely anything
To make you proud
One day

A lizard's tail,
dew in the night.
Ambrosia from the gods.
A drop of a
mermaid's tear.

This is Floccus Magni.

Shadows of the dead,
harrows of the living.
Joys of the darkness,
terrors of the light.

Let's entangle ourselves in lace.
While you leave trails of swelling bliss.
When all seems lost, it can be found.
I'm crazy because of the dead silence.

I am quiet when everyone’s loud
all I want is to speak over the crowd

I am small in a world that’s incredibly tall
wanting to be something great and grand like all

I am weak while the world around me is strong
it’s hard to feel like I really do belong

I am different in ways I can’t yet describe
everyone’s the same as I live umong my own tribe

everyone can fly into the air with a leap
as I am stuck on the ground

I am the black sheep.

Tell me those
things I did,
did not, do.

Talk of me
as a thing
in the past.

Leave me there,
plucked or tossed,
left as detritus.

Then I shall
be nothing to
no one; -gone.