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Larissa Frost Dec 2020
I don’t know
What ails the angels
Maybe they are tired
Of trying to guard me
And save me
From my demons
I picture them exhausted,
On a street curb
Smoking a Marlboro
Menthol
Begging for rest.
Maybe that’s what ails
The angels.

                             -L. Frost
StarBloom Nov 2018
Embodiment.
Its language. Listen.
It’s the dance of our devotion.
Open your emotion.
To honour this temple that houses the spirit of all madness,
wild women, roaring chaos.
As the feminine I release all guilt and shame...
Owning my sexuality. Owning my truth.
And taking back, the body as Mine.

I’m not here to be a pleaser in anyway, how utterly boring.
I take back my power, and I don’t only stand in my power,
but I Stomp the streets of chaos in defeat.. empowered..
i Soar the skies of the infinite eyes... empowered.

By the knowingness that I am free, in my body.

I will not allow, the media, the conditionings that are so stuck in their solidity, without any motion, their consciousness is stagnant and I say **** THAT.

Bring the sacred waters back,
and let the blood of bones wash over you..
as you remember the ancient essence of what is it to be Primitive,
free in the Body.

I’ll dance for you, Naked darling.
I hope you turn the lights on, and see yourself.
In remembrance.  Visible.
Free in the Body.

I hope you Rip off the layers when you get angry or sad,
and let the healing of your body, make you deliciously Mad.
Scream, and remember it’s all a dream.

The sizzling fire within you is the source of illuminating,
this essence so bright will **** all your frights.
Simply burning the layers of illusions,
So you may meet yourself as the fractal of fusions

Take it all off,
And see what you are made of.

— The End —