I sometimes take time to write a few lines of verse. Quite often to express feelings to prevent them getting worse. Often I express things that are there as thoughts in my own head. Sometimes its just things that I feel have needed to be said. I don't always consider the impact or repercussions of things that I may write. And I don't seek to make it all rhyme as a way for me to seem all bright. I find it the best way to express how conflicted I can feel. Inside my head it helps my thoughts focus on what I see as "real". You may not understand the emotions or maybe share my train of thought. But I will write how I think and how I feel even if against things we've all been taught. Its my way of expressing "truths" that I just need others to try and see. In part an explanation of why I cant be the way others would like for me to be. I write these lines as often as I am compelled to want to do. To give understanding and to express the things my mind perceives as true. Whether challenge or expression of lies life has forced me to be taught. I use the writing of these words to patch the walls of my emotional fort. I write the verse as a glimpse beyond my fragile fortress wall. I do it so all can see my sanity was dented by its fall. There is little I can do about the glimpses you may choose to see. Knowing that what you spy beyond the wall is not every part of me. The words are how I perceive the world not to influence thoughts in your head. But maybe...you have some understanding of me... from these words that now are read.
Love is so fickle; it can disintegrate at a moment’s notice. I just want to dive right in and love someone so badly and so deeply forever. I could say these things and declare my intent but words are just breath. Actions through my love and movement, my choices and my heart are the telepathy of love.
She burnt, slowly but with intent, not so much a flickering flame ticking away at an oil soaked wick, but a continuous stream of energy sourcing from her earthly power. Most of the time she carried a faint glow, gently floating, casting the softest hues on things only moments forgotten, things in which she dreamt whilst spinning in creation, or perhaps things needing to be given to a nights ocean wave
She was born as deep as an ocean and many of her feelings reaching ranges unfathomable. Often troubled and tormented by things past, thoughts that burn and then rain tears like ash, a once dormant volcano breaking through the oceanic floor. Resurfacing, revisiting once more. Opening up to be quickly cooled and building upon her growing foundation, a demonstration for the ones she loves. Let her burn and boil, and when she erupts, be with her at her depths as she cools.
day at the museum passing people some with intent who will notice slight bow eyes flutter do you notice? choose who chooses you clairvoyance all while black locks bounce blending away figment of imagination
Nothing is without a goal Behind every action is a purpose Will is comprised of Thought Emotion Intent There is no vacuum without purpose It is ingrained in the fibers of reality But to see it you need the will Thought Emotion Intent Behind every action is a purpose Nothing is without a goal