#emotionalalchemy
Altar regrets; please don’t alter my texts –
or delete my last request; as lust requests
you do what feels good, but it all becomes
tomorrow’s bad mistake, dressed out in
yesterday’s breath.
At the front of my books – my body language
in bold font is what I’ll flaunt; though at times,
I’m not so bold at being myself...
Physical or digital – _spiritual or literal_ –
loaning some faith on empty days,
loading some company when I feel
I’m moving through life at my lonesome,
feeling loathsome.
But take your time; write your own books if you
want to – just don’t forget the lessons you’ve read.
Despite being blue-ticked in person, my presence
and influence still get left on read...
I can’t claim ownership of everything; crying for
it all, till my eyes are painted red.
As each good word you’ve received is a divine gift –
to defy the rifts; to train and define your divine gifts,
learn to prune the sickness from your vine so new
creation can live... value the chance to forgive —
make every reason solid, for choosing to live.
Aug 8, 2025
Aug 8, 2025 at 1:38 AM UTC
Seeker, tell me— what is gold to one who sees only silver?
Am I the fool for trading, or is she blind to balancing silver with gold?
Even knowing this, still, I throw my gold upon the scales— because love is a gift, not a debt to be repaid.
But heed this, Seeker— love is not a bargain; it is a mirror. Only love must redeem love.
Mar 10, 2025
Mar 10, 2025 at 5:00 PM UTC
__Sinking tears –__
feelings don’t fall,
they crash
like glass hearts
meeting pavement.
Your chest?
A sunken place.
No bra strap to hold it up –
just white linen,
innocent for a moment,
until it slips
in front of eyes
like mirrors
reflecting
every scar
painted on your skin.
__Sandcastle kisses,__
built soft –
_fragile_ –
on lips that no longer
believe in forever.
Yet you speak
like royalty,
saying boldly:
__“Love me for what I am –__
not just who you think I’ve been.”
Not a princess.
Not a saviour.
A mess.
A wreck.
_A fallen queen._
Wearing her cracked gold crown
like a forgotten joke –
that still makes your heart ache
when it returns
in the quiet between memories.
__Bones for time__ –
you pick at every hour
like it owes you something.
_Tick.
Tick._
__Snap!__
The clock breaks
where your mind does.
You may live in the day,
but you __breathe__
in the night.
Freer beneath moonlight,
where shadows stop asking questions –
and silence
finally listens.
Jun 14, 2025
Jun 14, 2025 at 3:14 PM UTC