One of the few things that I'm sure of.
I could build my world off of.
Your unknowingly frequent touches on the world around you.
One of the few things I know.
It's strange - almost unheard of in this town.
The impact --
Insurmountable.

Writing is like jumping into a deep mountain lake
to find some tiny piece of my soul
submerged and floating there
an immersive brooding wistful prayer
or a flight into the blue thin air.

It is a cinematic journey
recording the fruits of noticing
what is right in front of the eyes
and finding what is deeper
unseen underneath.

Writing is looking into an old man’s eyes
and discovering the person there
just as much a spiritual venture
digging toward his center
as a physical sensation.

It is a magical mystery tour
taking the visible threads
in hand and feeling my way
to the roots
or pausing and squeezing the fruit
for its juice.

It is fun
it is a morning run
or an evening rest
pain, joy, and dreams expressed.

Writing is moving, grooving, including
taking a moment in time
exploding it in rhythm and rhyme
finding in the ordinary the sublime.

I crave
The smell of old books,
The aroma of coffee shops,
The touch of the rain
And the feel of the sun on my face

Deep conversations
About the meaning of our purpose
Discovering ourselves
Uncovering ourselves
From all our disguises
And fake faces

I want the truth
The feeling of true connection,
with compassionate eyes
That understand mine.

The feeling of the earth
With my bare feet

I will open up and tear myself apart
Pour myself over
Like a cup of tea
To find my sweet.

It will be worth it

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
           @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
             @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
               |@@@@   I believe I can, what
               |  ------      is hindering me then
              /                       is ego?,that I feel
            /                          myself so low
           /                          or is it fear?, that
           ===                     I won't able to
               /                      clear.  Or just an
               ==                       over thinking
               \                              that I am
                |                        sinking. I feel
                 =======          so gloomy that
                                |        everything
        ­                        |          appears
                      ­                   dark being
                                  Bloomy, evytime      
                             I stand I fall , criticizin
               Myself believing I am small
       I believe that ending will be fortunate, Coz what worst can occur in my fate. Maybe its just rough time and
Once again I will shine, maybe its just
My test,that will lead me to my success nest, maybe its just a blessing to complete me from what's lacking.

i am a shape

                       i dOn't know what kind

    i dOn't knOw what dimensiOn

                                          i give myself answers

            that i dOn't have the questiOns tO

                                                         my bOdy tries match a silhOuette

                        but there are nOne

                                                         i am an existent piece of sOmething

and that is all i knOw.

With your shining smile
Follows a twinge to my heart
Like pins and needles
And giggles bubble to the surface,
Yet I boldly exclaim: I don’t
Like you.

Your little everyday actions
Makes my heart sing
And my eyes sparkle
With secret adoration,
My cheeks bloom
Like roses on Valentine’s and my cherry red lips
Yet I stubbornly insist: I don’t
Like you.

But that day
Under the starry night sky,
As your arm brushes longingly against mine,
And you point out the constellations in the vast sky,
That are connected so naturally,
Fitting so perfectly,
I can’t help but think of
You and I.

-Bella R.

There is some kind of soft magic
in the way your hands glide
across my skin, half knowing,
and half discovering,
deciphering,
decoding all that I am.
The way you go straight to the heart
of the matter, yet in doing so,
you're perpetually awed both by
your new findings and by the
remnants of stardust you left
behind, last time.