they see your light
luminescent and burning with pale shades of pink and orange
they love to bask in its warm glow
but they could never sustain it so far

silly girl, always mistaking her own reflection as another's glow
when will you ever learn?

perhaps when your whole world is dim enough
and all the mirrors have fogged up
you will trace that sliver of light
on your own fingertips
in the iris of your eyes

painful, but necessary for you to finally realise
you are what you seek in everything.

You’ve wandered long through shadowed lands,
With trembling heart and open hands,
The clocks spun slow, the sky turned grey,
Yet still, you rose to meet the day.

A thousand questions marked your pace,
Who am I now? What is this place?
But hush - the wind, it softly knows,
The soul still grows, the spirit flows.

You wore your grief like autumn’s coat,
Then shed it when the spring took note.
The stars watched on with patient eyes,
As you began to reorganize.

Your path, your pace, your whispered dreams,
No longer bound to old regimes.
You dared to laugh, to love, to try,
Beneath a less familiar sky.

And though you walk with aching feet,
The journey’s song is bittersweet.
You are not lost - you’re being led,
By threads of gold the Fates have spread.

So question all! The love, the lore,
The quiet "why," the distant shore.
You’re not alone - just newly found,
Among kind hearts, profound and sound.

Step forward now with trust, with grace,
The future waits to know your face.
For all that’s past is not yet gone,
You’re just becoming who you’ve been all along.

Thursday's child has far to go.
a child borne
of beauty and grace
so much more
a pretty face
her mind usually still
calm
is wild
racing
she fights
not only to survive
to live
to love
for her right
to be a human

Thursday's child has a voice
Thursday's child made a choice
to many a persons dismay
Thursday's child decides
to stay

Thursday's child
not full of woe
unfortunately
still far to go

When water became water, not lemon and lime,
I drank for the pleasure, not to pass time.

When bread became bread, not pizza and cake,
I'm hearing my stomach, and it needs a break.

When danger becomes danger, not fear on a screen,
I stopped checking corners for foes unseen.

When fire becomes fire, not mirrors and smoke,
my friends sit together, and nurture our hope.

When food becomes famine, and future unknown,
we'll treasure our friends, instead of our homes.

These feelings flow inside me
Like the ebb and flow of waves
Sea levels keep on rising
As I struggle to grow as well

So constantly overflowing, overwhelmed
How can I hold it all in?
It's fire and not water that you can quell

Suddenly I'm out of breath
I'm sinking under water
Clutching at my neck -
I'm pulled deeper

Fire put out,
Lightless depths hold me closer.
My body lays in its clutches -
No will to hope at all.
All that's left is but cold embers,
No memory of a time where fires burned bright.

I open my eyes to the waters again,
Sway along with current,
Rise and fall with the tide,
Get a hang of it all,
Learn it all by hand.

But can I learn anything worth learning at all?

And I'll fail and learn from my mistakes
Try to be accountable for burdening others when I can't hold back
Waters turn turbulent, receding from my grasp,
Rising high,
Slamming its weight down, relentless,
My mind lost, struggling to find direction,
And I'm left trying to gather it all,
Water dispersed,
Pushing myself to reach out,
Rebuild the scattered pieces,
Rekindle what was snuffed out
With the little space I've scraped for it.

Where am I going with this all?

And I might be drowning,
With the enormity of that which I still struggle to grasp.
But slowly I'll learn to breathe this cold water again,
And hold on till the very end.

Forgive the failings of the parent, the flaws of our design.
Only if we accept our nature can we enjoy what's left of our time.

The poison left in our blood, corrosion of the self,
pain accepted as a norm, obligations on no one else.
They say the mind is the strongest prison,
walls of darkness and chasms within them,
and a fear that pain came first because pain comes always,
and as we peep out into the empty hallways
we see in their endless doors
an infinite capacity for more
and why would any weary traveller
step out into such foreboding
places to explore?

At first the poison seems for life. It runs in our blood and rains from the heights.
But nothing is without cost and the lie must be maintained.
We follow the orders held with us from the day we got our name.
But the thicker the poison and the hotter it burns, the stronger the antidote and the more we can learn.

Pain becomes progress,
a diabolical fuel,
a tool heavy to swing,
but one that will bring
greater transformation
and let's turn bad memories
into useful information.

They think it's love, until the lust fades,
thing it's good, until the looks fade,
Think it's smart, until it hurts,
Think it's broke, until it works.

Don't begrudge children where they were born.
They don't make em the same anymore.
The curse of the new slave, wrapped around their mind,
loyal to the poison that degenerates their mind.

How can I know I am moving when
the air around me is ghostly still
the room surrounds me, white and chill
and the sun peeps over the windowsill.
I lean on my talent as though it would carry me
and place blame on my family
as though they would harry me
but no one but I can defy
these workings of fate, and
I'm under obligation of no one to be great,
but my aim is to be what
I know I must be, I am not a wheel
to drive an engine I am the blade defending,
I'd die before that I love
and need no threat from below or
blessing from above.

I arrived as a child of dust and from it I derive no meaning
other than to look for such a thing
that has no answers, advancing only
at the mercy of my own whims.
I must find things I love and feed them
and in turn connect myself
to the world and breeding these passions
I'd fashion a place, my memory retrieving,
and feel fascinated and young
like the inner child I'm starting to believe in.

Horizon of heard words bring
feelings
new and relieving
receiving
messages from myself
to be passed to someone else.

Like birth I breathe my
first lesson
in learning a new obsession.
A whole new world
completed by curiosity
and only in generosity of voice
was I shown the choice we each make
to hide and to fake
to fear that we are
no more than animals with complex speech
and we reach desperately to find
some notion that we are tools
but in truth we are without rules
and can experience as much as we are willing to believe.