In the summer,
Hands in soil,
Bodies covered in dirt,
Running barefoot,
Camping in grass,
Rolling in mud,
Smoke in our hair,
Dust in our socks,
Tasting the Earth,
Juice dripping down chins,
Flowers in hands,
Rolling down hills,
Resting in roots.
In the fall,
Rain in our hair,
Rain in our clothes,
Rain on our skin,
Rain carries filthy rivulets
To the drain.

When I look into his eyes I see the eyes of the devil staring back at me.

But they're not his.
Just a reflection of the past.

I went from dirt to a queen.

Can I be a queen covered in mud?

Melt me to puddles...

Not masses of chocolate dripping with lust not steaming sweat....

***** filthy puddles that leave me crusted with earth, crumble and peal from you...

Loved and thrown with cheers and craved on hot summer days...

The sky crackles and I feel the most alone.

Just like that day in the woods.

My special place was off the trail, but he couldn't have known me,

I was so young and such an idiot,

Not everyone is genuine but I was so trusting,

I can still smell the sickening mixture of fresh-fallen rain,his sweat, the mud around the creek and salt from my tears.

With every atmospheric collision from the sky
my stomach churns tasting the blood in my mouth from his fist thundering against my tear stained cheeks.

When the wind blows  
I can still feel his callous hands bruising and exploring my unwilling body, and scraping against
the most intimate parts of me.

The lightning is when I remember the rock that found my desperate palms and crashing against his temple

The wind howls and the rain finally starts to fall then, near my belly button burns just like it did when the blade he swung wildly cut me before I could run and the water is my heartbeat pounding  in my ears,
but I can hear him behind me
The rush If my blood reminding me I’m still alive mind begging me to stay that way, his threats pushing me further

Head pounding ,body burning,
I burst through my front door

And then I start to cry

Flowers in her
Hair,
She dances in the
Rain,
A Princess of
Destruction,
Mud in her
veins.

Her time is running out,
She's running into brick.
If we don't help her soon,
Our young Princess
Might just
Slip.

He, was a river his movement were very devine.

He would flood, the area of your home if conditions where just right.

Bring him more sand bags alright as the water begin too reach the fences height.

The land, was parting and sliding into mud as the river monster waves continue there plot of that day

Stark walls
pressed between the melting wax of stained glass
My eyes adjust to a new focus
even as I fight to see more clearly
in this muddy rubble
What rises up?
Beautiful buried things
Awake at last

Come Forth
And dance upon the dead