Whisk me away, my love.
To lands of enchantment,
With streams of milk and honey
Flowing past trees as tall as castles.
This lifeless place is nothing like
the realms I wish to visit with you.
I am in need of saving,
Like a damsel in a high tower,
I am trapped in a dull world.

Oh, whisk me away, my love.
To a cottage in the woods,
And let me sew in a rocking chair
While you carve me a small trinket.
As we sit by the fire together,
I will think about the place I am now.
I am in need of saving,
Like a grandmother stumbling.
I am unsteady on my feet.

Please, whisk me away, my love.
To safety and comfort.
A quiet apartment is all I ask,
With warm tea and warmer hugs.
Watch the sunrise with me,
As we watch TV with the dog.
No longer in need of saving,
Like a feral cat with a forever home.
No longer scared for tomorrow.

If I am to die any time soon
Please, lord, let it be on a Sunday afternoon;
Let it be 15 degrees with a slight breeze;
Let it be under a soft sky with a purple hue;
Let it put an end to me feeling so blue;
As the aeroplane trails fade out of sight,
Let the blackbird song lull me into night.

I love sun-drenched afternoons when the world seems softer,

when people seem to be going about their day as usual,
but they seem more at peace.

when I can hear every sound around me,
but my mind feels silent.

when I'm walking towards my destination,
but I feel like I'm walking aimlessly in solace.

something so nostalgic, something so special, wish I could relish in this reverie forever.

They told us tears were trouble,
a crack in the mask,
a plea for attention,
a sign we weren’t strong enough—
so we swallowed storms whole,
let the thunder shake inside our chests,
never daring to let it pour.

They taught girls that crying was dramatic,
a script rewritten to seem small,
a fault in the fabric of being “too much.”
They told boys it made them weak,
that strength was silence,
that pain should be caged behind quiet eyes.

But tears are not weakness.
They are rivers that carry the weight,
a language of the soul
when words fail to hold what aches.
They do not make you less,
only more—
more human, more real, more free.

So cry if you need to.
Let it fall like rain on thirsty ground,
and know—
I will never see you any differently.

The sweetest of confections
The dearest of affections
Sweet nothings to the ear
A  symphony you will never hear
Spindly drawings on the wrists
A horrid mural with a twist
Shattered wings that cannot fly
Turn around and say goodbye
Close your eyes and wish for love
From a supposed deity up above
Hope for tomorrow
Live for today
There is still so much left to say
Soft melodies in the harsh, humid air
But no one listens or seems to care
Take a breath and rest your head
Fall to the ground, an earthy bed
Taste the comfort and feel the warmth
Hear the music and go forth
Learn your lesson, seize the day
Forge The path
Pave the way.

I walk along an endless beach,
waves lapping at my ankles,
soft sand beneath my feet.
The world is a quiet peace.

I glance back and notice,
to my surprise,
two sets of footprints
trailing in the sand behind me.

I know He is here,
rejoicing in my joy,
walking beside me
because I have welcomed Him.

But one day, the wind rises.
The sky darkens, torn by thunder.
The waves crash, drowning my cries.
I stumble, unable to go on.

My life is unrecognizable—
rubble and filth,
pain and sorrow,
a world shattered by the storm.

And when I look back?
Only one set of footprints in the sand.

Why?

Am I truly alone?

I sit in silence,
lost in the weight of abandonment.
I search for understanding,
but all I find is emptiness.

I look up to the sky and cry out—
“Why have You forgotten me?”

Only then is the truth revealed.

Not my footprints, not my strength.
Every step in the sand was His.
Through the storm, He carried me,
through the waves, He walked.
Not a single moment alone.

I was never forsaken.
I forsook Him.
But he still carries me to the end

I long to be known.
To be seen.
To be heard.

I long to be held,
In a comforting embrace,
And told that everything will be okay

I always thought someone would find me.
That it would be a perfect teenage romance,
Like you see in stupid fantastical films.

So I waited.
And waited.
And waited.

But no one came.

I was a naive fool.

Maybe it's just not meant to be.