Separate from all I see outside of me, the other the cold beyond warm fire, the other by lessons learned, watch out! the other by a culture of want, that teaches to take from the other by a secret kept from the other by time and promise and pain held close, I am alone, apart from the other
Separate by so many oceans that warm to rain when her heart opens and she smiles with new light
Her skin blurs
I accept this gift, held out to me by love’s keeper, life’s source and move beyond the bounds to what I see outside of me
My skin blurs, I am the other
You are my second skin
The sweetness after my mum's open heart surgery, and while reading (the mind-blowing) "Ascent of Humanity" by Charles Eisenstein.
Out of the blue, I replied to an Email one day sent from a lady In Texas who said she felt compelled to help me having read one of my poems I decided to reply and so happy I did for I've never looked back for this lady who messaged In my hour of need It then that I realised how kind this lady truly Is for she's helped me to see there can be life after loss and now Instead of looking back, I'm now trying to move forward In a positive way, thanks to my true Texas friend who Is always there for me as I am for her, Friends Till We Go Home
You are my sweet sin, my only demon And when I think about you, There is no escape, no way back, Loving you is like drowning peacefully in the dark Because our love is reckless, but it’s real too And if it’s real, it has to bring a little chaos It has to give a thrill that you’ve never met And it will certainly bring a happiness That you’ve never experienced before And probably, will never experience with somebody else..
I find it surprising that animals can sometimes understand us better than people. Their eyes; full of love and hope. Their attitude; showing care and gentleness. Words are not needed for them to tell us their love for us. And yet we, humans, cannot love each other the way animals can love us.
Does it make me Strange To crave connection, Does it make me Weird To demand respect. Am i other For asking for more And expecting To be treated What I’m worth And am I Wrong To see love In such wild Caricatures That all prove To be Light And smoke