take this beautiful heart
and all these ugly hurt
take this beautiful skin
and all these deep scars
coz if you’re gonna love me
you have to take all of me
all of me, all of me
i am whole to take
not just pieces to keep

Rocks, all around me
    Rocks, under my feet
Walking through the day
As I suffer the heat

Water, I need some
    Water, there is none
Thirsty and dry
Dried by the sun

Love, just as much
    Love, my life’s crutch
There is no more
I miss your - touch


I hung my legs off a porch to do some reading. There were parts that were high and low, but the ground was out of reach. I sat with my legs dangling for an hour. When it came to my attention, I had to ask myself — why had I chosen the spot closest to the ground? For the ground was out of reach.

Home is a place that does not dissipate
a place where ones safe and in peace
where you feel you belong
yet my mind falters to derive feelings from mine
the solidarity and serenity in your families company is joyous
but lately i sporadically ever feel that way
the significance of my home is long gone
i feel i am alone
since i grew old i have come to realize that a woman has no home
she belongs nowhere
she is just another human being, a stranger to her family
who comes in their lives and leaves, hopelessly and coaxed with words of love
alienated and distant by her own
a woman is regarded as only a caretaker and nothing more!

☆”˜˜”°•.¸☆ ★ ☆¸.•°”˜˜”°•.¸☆

Stars gather in a twinkly show
     moon ascending in the dark sky,
          drowsy souls falling asleep
               in the still of night passing by.

        Drifting,
              floating,
                  peaceful dreams

               in gentle flows of height, and depth,
         myriad auroras of colors dance
a soft melody, on whispered breath.

Lingering just a moment or two
      as the world of dreams take hold,
           putting tired souls at ease
               in a soothing light of mosaic gold.

        Drifting,
              floating,
                  in songs of night

            magical melodies fill the air,
      floating upon a gentle breeze
tranquil moments, and answered prayers.

Stars gather in a twinkly show
     moon ascending in the dark sky,
          drowsy souls falling asleep
               in the still of night passing by.
~
              ☆”˜˜”°•.¸☆ ★ ☆¸.•°”˜˜”°•.¸☆

My life is filled with endless apologies

Sincere and heartfelt promises that are shallow and empty

It's not a conscious thought
The words aren't spoken with known deceit or intentional mal-intent
But somewhere in my brain, buried in my subconscious, I know...
A self-sabotaging automated programming constantly running
And regardless of my cognitive actions or conscious thoughts, desires and intentions
My automated programming will find a way to inevitably run its code, follow its routines and execute its prime directive

And that's not a cop out
They're still my actions
Conscious or subconscious
Actions resulting from subconscious "thought" are those I'm too ignorant to see or too weak to change in that moment

I don't know what's worse
The subconscious lies and heaps of horse fertilizer, day in and day out, I shove down the throats of those who cross my path
Or the incessant feed of regurgitated words, phrases, thoughts, ideas and worst of all.... hopes.... that is being forced through my digestive track only to be excreted by my body and re-absorbed by my central nervous system

Hope

The worst trick of all

And it always works. Without fail
Why?
Because it psychologically and emotionally preys on everything I want to be
The Hope that THIS TIME I'll get it right
THIS TIME I won't FAIL
All those things inside of me
All of my
......
Potential
.......
This time it won't be wasted
This time I'll come through. You can count on me!
I promise!
This time I'll be on time
This time I won't be late!
This time I'll meet expectations
This time I'll EXCEED expectations!
This time I won't let people down
This time I won't....
                                 .....
                                    ..... let
                                               ME

                                                      .­....down

Hope

The saddest and ultimate cruelty of lies
Created by the Devil to prey on the weak and gullible
If Hell is living your worst day over and over again for eternity;
Then repeating the same detrimental behaviors over and over again for life, sustained in this perpetual motion by something so simple and harmless looking as "Hope" must fall at the Devil's hands

A wolf in sheep's clothing sprinkled in fairy dust
The worst of thoughts and beliefs are kept alive by Hope
Hope is a disease; a psychological virus
A damaged idea spreading from person to person, hijacking their system, and infecting their thoughts
For Hope is not a singular idea, isolated in seclusion, yet ultimately wrapped up and packaged out with other ideas
No, Hope is the vehicle that all thoughts that follow must ride in and by which be delivered
It is the Uber for ideas that follow
And like an unscrupulous and unpitying Uber driver,
Hope takes your brain to a secluded spot against its will and does as it so pleases
But unlike survivors of such horrific events
I, like a wide eyed doe in the headlights
I continuously expose myself to the exact same scenarios
over
and
over again

But not to worry

Eventually,
Hope will lose its magic
And the void created will be filled

By,

Regret,
Resentment,
Animosity,
Self-doubt,
Self-loathing,

And worst of all,

Denial

Denial is Hope's evil twin

The not so secret malicious trickster who, even though wears his emotions somewhat more clearly, is still capable of a lifetime of successful pranks

But unlike Hope, Denial doesn't always reveal his trick if the tricked has yet to become aware of the ruse
Instead, Denial will let them build
Stack upon stack
A colossal suspension bridge built and supported on Denial
And when I, with blind faith, cross that bridge
Putting everything and anything on the line, without question
That's when Denial delivers its reckoning
And in one all encompassing swoop it swallows me whole and any resemblance of "life" with it

Hope and Denial
My Atlantic and Pacific Oceans
and Me, a tiny island
Flanked on either side by the endless majesty of each
And like this planet,
I too,
Am a sphere spinning
A tiny island against the enormities of the the deep blue
A shipwrecked survivor
Floating on the driftwood of my subconscious
Left to the will of my environment
A helpless passenger on this ship of life
Constantly spinning between Hope and Denial
Some days calm and serene
Others, tormented by storms
Monster waves,
Flashes of lightning,
Ear shattering crackling explosions of thunder
And howling winds so fierce they must be the breath of God

And regardless of what scenario lays before me,
I'm left repeatedly with the same "choice" and same action

Enveloped with fear,
Hanging on for dear life,
Like a helpless and horrified child.....

On the verge of soiling my pants