With a heavy sigh, I go to bed at night, laying down to finally rest,
Just to awake in my personal heaven, a realm of sweetness and bliss,
Flowers of all kinds, trees with angel trumpets bound to golden chain,
As the lilies are touched by a soft breeze, giving off their nice scent,
I spirit away to purely engage and sympathize with other but pure fury or the sadness which has been sealed within my heart since then,
Snowdrops and buttercups form a way to a single jasmine near a river of the purest water, which is alike a shining star, majesticly sparkling,
The sky is starlit, each in their orbit whilst the golden light of the sun still reaches through, warming my cold skin comfortingly, delicately,
Taking a seat I glance at what the table has presented before my eyes,
Sweets, with sour yet aromatised orange juice anda large cheesecake,
Then, suddenly, a single seagull draws near, weeping for affection,
Together with bunnies and bumblebees buzzing around the flowers,
Even now all the hummingbirds harmonise in a soft orchestra,
And no frightened creature cries, they draw together in happiness,
Yet I feel the absence of something which I hold very dear to me,
Because you my dear lover, remain as my sweetest dream

~ Umi

Rolling a Pall Mall in the courtyard,
of Ye Olde Swiss Cottage Tavern,
in the last of November's sun:

      Lovely sunlight,
      You are,
      Filling me warmly with joy.

Thinking of our desires,
from summer and autumn months,
up to this bright November morning,
we have happily danced,
e'en in the shadows.

Above me two brick turrets,
as I dreamily smoke,
nonchalantly state: 'Underground'.
High-raised logos winking at our play,
struck through with horizontal blue,
in a circle of enamel white.
'Old Fool,' the towers hiss,
directed at my mortal sensibilities,
'winter has come!'

But nothing buries us
as our sun still comfortingly kindles
a friendly star
which when all is dark,
glows inside,
guiding the shipwreck of my sunken years
- the debts and all those unpaid thrills!

Dreaming and Loving,
as children out,
lost in an abundant *****,
each holding off for as long as we dare,
lovers unmasked,
naked before suffocating paternity,
and cold winter's bite!
where to we hardly know,
to avoid its cruel embrace.

It was a rainy night. He took out his umbrella, opened it, and it soon engulfed the both of us. "Hey, you're getting wet," he said. He pulled me closer to him, his arms like the umbrella protecting me, protecting us from the drizzle.

I snapped out of my daydream to find him weirdly staring at me, and asked him, "What, do I have something on my face?"

"No, it's just... why are you staring into space?"

Our footsteps made little splashes, puddles reflected a thousand images of us. These pictures from nature will not last for a lifetime but the rain was our witness, as if the skies were crying at a matrimonial ceremony.

I took a step away from him to let the memory of him soak in me. He stands there in the rain innocently, with umbrella in hand, waiting for me to respond. Breathing out, I told him: "Ask me what I think of you right now."

"Wait, what? Are we going to play a game?" That usual what-is-going-on look still stupidly plastered on his angelic face. "Well, what do you think of me right now, then?"

I didn't hesitate and the first word that automatically left my lips were 'umbrella'.

"Umbrella? Do I look that thin to you, really?" He said dryly as he gave me an uninspired look. He shook his head in disbelief and pouted. "And I thought you'd relate me at least to the rain."

"Umbrella: definition for a protecting force or influence," I told him as I stood in place. I side-glanced at him to find a spark lighted up in his eyes as his shoulders loosened. "You're my umbrella because I need you in rainy days and sunny ones. Literally because of your stature to block the sun or cover me when it rains," I laughed. "And it's not because you're thin like one, silly. But how you comfortingly stretch out your arms to me when it's a bad day for me. How you guard me from others' icy remarks. It feels like a need to have you around wherever I go."

He cleared his throat jokingly and added, "Might I say I also take you high like Mary Poppins' umbrella." He burst out laughing as I glared at him for his poorly done innuendo.

But right there and then as I rolled my eyes at him, he dropped the umbrella, grabbed me by my waist and kissed me as light as the raindrops kissing our skin. He broke off after a while and said, "Getting wet, are we?"

Before I could claw at him for his second pun, he released me as I chased him down, not caring if I would get a fever later. But sometimes I just wonder how did I come to like, fall in love, and love him-- basically feel every emotion with him. In all truth, he wasn't just my umbrella, but also my home whom I'll always return to at the end of all my days. Umbrella or home, he is my shelter.

You're sitting in the hospital bed.
You're smiling but you're crying.
You're telling the nurses over and over and over
"He's not a bad person."
"I don't want you to think he's a bad person."
"He didn't mean for this to happen."
(Just like, later on, you have to tell your friends and his friends and your family and his family the same things)

They shake their heads at you, but smile and squeeze
Your hand or shoulder comfortingly.
You won't realize this until later,
But you were so far in denial
And everyone knew it.

You're in your new therapists office.
He's asking you to recall a time men didn't scare you.
You smile and say,
"What? Men don't scare me."

He frowns and reaches for a tissue,
And you flinch.
His frown deepens as he hands you the tissue,
You realize you've been crying for the entire session.

It's the day before your anniversary with him.
You've been fighting for the whole week.
You just want to talk to him,
Figure out why he's so mad at you.
Why he keeps taking it out on you.

So you bring it up,
While you try to prepare dinner.
Knowing that if you say the wrong word,
You might have to figure out a new place
To sleep for awhile.

He says something, stands up.
You're thinking the whole time:
"How did it get this bad?
What did you do wrong this time?
Why do you always do this?"
You flinch.
Your back is against the stove that you haven't turned on yet.

There's a flare of anger and pain in his eyes
As he tells you,
Trying not to yell,
"I won't hurt you!"

You realize that you're scared of him.
That you're not just in this relationship because you love him.
You're there because you fear him.

And you think to yourself
"How can I be so stupid?
I was in the last one because I was afraid.
I wasn't in love.
But I love him.
Why am I scared of him?
He won't hurt me."

But he gets mad, and slams things.
Hits himself.
And you realize it's because he won't hit you.
But he wants to hit you.

Things only ever get worse,
And sooner or later
Due to his friends advice,
You leave for two days
To give him some space.
He says he'll pick you up,
That Sunday from your friends house.

He arrives on Sunday, a little over an hour late.
He hasn't spoken to you all weekend.
You want to attribute the fear to your abuse and anxiety.
But when he shows up,
He brought most of your things.
He breaks up with you on her porch,
With cliches like
"We met at the wrong time."
"It's not you, it's me."
"I don't want this to be the end."

And you realize,
He's just painting himself as the good guy.

But he's not a good guy.

Because the one time you were honest with him
About how bad you were getting,
And you weren't even there for it because you black out when overwhelmed,
He used it so he could be the victim.
Twisted it so the suicidal girl had to comfort him because it made him lose trust in you.

And he's telling and told all his friends
That you use your mental illness
To manipulate him.

And you want to scream at him,
Because you've never done that.
He's used his everything
To twist you up.

You should have run for the hills the moment he got mad
At you for having an anxiety attack in the car
In public,
Saying
"I hate when you do this. It makes other people think I abuse you."

Because that was the moment
He probably realized he was doing exactly that.

And you should have run as far as you could,
Because that was two months before it ended,
And it only got worse.
He only got worse.

And you shouldn't have stayed,
Because he was this way from the beginning.
He has thin skin and angers too easily.
Would throw grown-up tantrums
When something went wrong
When you told him he was wrong
Or told him he hurt you.

You should have run.
You should have cut ties.

Love cannot heal someone
Who doesn't want to be healed.

And he didn't heal you
He made you worse.

But he won't be the one to break you.

Because a wolf in sheeps clothing
Will always be just that.
People will see the sheep
That sometimes gets a little too close
To the meat at dinner,
That sometimes disappears.

And a rescue dog
Will always have that pain,
But that doesn't mean you can't be happy
One day.

And that wolf in sheeps clothing,
He promised he wasn't a wolf.
He promised he wouldn't do this.
That he was just a sheep.
But what do promises mean
To monsters
Anyway?

Alexei stood on top of a mountain, the wind ferociously whipping through his fur. He could feel the sun burning behind him and he saw the moon standing proudly before him. He looked down at the ground below h and saw thousands of Lycans looking up at him. He smiled as he saw them. Alexei looked behind them and his heart stopped as he saw a raging wildfire encircling them. They were oblivious to the wall of fire behind them, looking to Alexei to guidance. He began to panic. He tried to run to them but his body would not let him, he tried to scream but his voice was merely a whisper. Tears stung his eyes as he saw the fire approach them. Alexei heard thunder in the distance and everything before him froze in place. His body was shaking. He felt something behind him and he turned. Alexei's eyes widened as he saw a regal white Lycan with golden fur tips standing in front of him. Her eyes were a dazzling purple, sparkling like stardust. Alexei could sense the overwhelmingly massive power standing in front of him. The wolf stood a few feet taller than him and Alexei felt meek before them. Alexei bowed instinctually, letting his muzzle touch the ground. His heart was in his throat and for the first time in his life, he felt insignificant. The Lycan spoke to him softly, "Alexei, I am Mother Luna."
Alexei swallowed hard as he realized the gravity of the situation. He was talking to a god. The Lycan god. Alexei's voice squeaked out, "M-mother Luna,why have I been having these dreams? What am I meant to do?"
The Lycan blinked slowly, "I have chosen you, Alexei. You are my vassal. You have worked for over seven hundred years to build the Lycans into a thriving species. You single handedly created a nation for our kind. You did well in hiding your true self since then, but now it is time to reveal yourself once again." She paused, "There is a war coming. The Slayers have been working in the shadows for a while now, trying to undermine our species. But no longer. Now you must fight back." She gestured to the land below them.
"Those Lycans will look up to you, they will rely on you for guidance. You alone can lead them."
Alexei looked to the mass of wolves below him and whispered, "What if I'm not strong enough? What if I fail you?"
Mother Luna stomped her foot and the ground shook. Thunder rumbled and she said firmly, "You ARE strong enough, Alexei. And you cannot fail me. Tap into the strength within you. Awaken the powers of the Master Alpha."
Alexei felt strengthened by her words, taking a deep breath. "As you say, so it shall be done, Mother Luna."
She nodded. Thunder and lightning flashed around them as she said, "Now go! I have faith in you." The world faded to black, with only Mother Luna's glowing eyes and the sound of wildfire remaining.

Alexei woke up, blinking away the vision. Aurora was coming down the stairs, and Alexei took a deep breath. He sat up in the bed and yawned, feeling rested but troubled. Aurora looked at him as she entered the room, "Up already, sir? It's still early morning. The sun won't be up for another few hours."
Alexei nodded, "I tend to wake early. Old habits die hard."
Aurora laughed, "I suppose you're right. I came to... To check on you, sir."
Alexei nodded and looked her in the eyes for a moment. In that single moment, he read her body language and scent. He broke eye contact and closed his eyes as he broke down the information. She was in her twenties, had no mate, and her musk was disguised with what Alexei assumed was perfume. He could feel Aurora blushing as he studied her, but he also sensed her body language change. Her stance was more submissive, and her heartbeat quickened a little as she watched his eyes move over her.
Alexei stood slowly, watching Aurora as she stole glances at his body. He watched as her eyes began to wander, studying the Alpha intently. Alexei could smell something new from her and he growled softly. Aurora gasped and looked up at him, her eyes mixed with fear and lust. Alexei could sense the heat from her body and felt a twinge of want in his own.
Alexei brought his head down low, eye to eye with the young beta. He said sternly, "You know not the game you play, Aurora."
She shrank back, shame clear on her face. He saw her ears flatten against her head and her tail curl around her leg. "I-I... I'm..."
Alexei sighed and sat down, "Don't be discouraged or ashamed of yourself, Aurora." She looked at him, still unsure of herself. Alexei asked, "You've never been mated, have you?"
She shook her head quickly, her mouth firmly shut but Alexei could sense the heat in her cheeks as she blushed. Alexei continued, "You wanted me to be your first mate, right?"
Aurora attempted to speak, but her mind was a muddle of emotions. She sank to the floor, defeated.
Alexei smiled softly. "There is nothing wrong with wanting that, Aurora." He looked at her, projecting his sympathy to her. Through their connection he could sense her calming down. "Is there no one in your pack who is a more viable mate?"
Aurora looked away, whispering, "No. All the males are mated already. I'm alone."
Alexei sighed softly, "I'm sorry. My paws are tied on this matter. I'm an Alpha. A mated alpha at that."
Aurora's cheeks were burning, "I-I know. I just wanted the feeling. I wanted to know what it's like to mate with someone."
Alexei shut his eyes and took a breath. His own mind was filled with mixed thoughts and emotions. He watched as Aurora lifted herself off the floor into a sitting position. Aurora continued, "When you pinned me in the woods, I didn't know what to feel. I was scared, but I loved the feeling of you above me, dominating me instantly." Her eyes closed for a second and she shivered. "Then I smelled you and I knew you were an Alpha. I... I didn't care that you were mated, I just needed you."
Alexei listened and sensed her desire in her voice. Instinct told him to indulge her, but his mind knew that he shouldn't. He whispered, "Aurora, this can't happen. Bad things could happen to both of us if someone were to find out."
She looked into his eyes, then down at her paws, "I know."
A few moments passed and Alexei made his decision. Alexei stood and took a step closer to her. She looked up at him and he growled. She gasped and shrunk down a little, her heart pounding. Alexei gestured to the bed and Aurora slowly walked around him, heat filling her cheeks once more. She got onto the bed and faced Alexei, watching him stalk closer to her. She tried to manage her breathing but each breath came out more shallow than the last. She watched as Alexei put one paw on the bed, then another. Alexei's voice shook her to the core as he said, "Turn around."
Aurora hesitated then did as he demanded. She raised her rear to him and she gasped as she felt him standing over her. Alexei leaned down and whispered to her, "No one can know about this."
Aurora nodded and mouthed, "I promise." Alexei's put a paw on each of hers and she felt a heat between her hind legs. She felt her back paws being pushed apart and she groaned mentally to him. She peeked back to him, her innocent eyes begging him to be gentle. Alexei pressed his belly against her back and felt their warmths colliding, forcing Aurora to loose a moan. She began to drool as she felt her urges being fulfilled by the big Alpha. She kept her mind entwined with his, repeatedly whispering her wants and needs to him, fueling his own carnal desire. She closed her eyes and let Alexei take over her, allowing the Alpha to tame her wild body.
They finished as the sun rose, and Aurora was breathless and exhausted. Alexei lay next to her as she recovered. She looked at him with a dazed look in her eyes and she nuzzled against his neck. "That was better than I ever could have imagined, Alpha." Aurora began to fall asleep and Alexei watched her. Once her breathing slowed, Alexei pushed his consciousness towards her dormant mind. He pushed healing energy towards her, helping her recover faster. As he began to retreat from her mind, he caught a glimpse of her dream. She was reliving the past few hours with him, and Alexei could feel the ecstasy that she felt. She had loved every second of it. Alexei couldn't help feeling guilty that she would have to keep it a secret, and that he was disloyal to his mate.
Alexei retreated back to his own mind, his thoughts darkened by his guilt. He took another deep breath and went deep into his own mind, searching for the powers that he had kept dormant for years. He felt it pulling him in, and he let it take him. The power was overwhelming, stored and growing for hundreds of years. Alexei tapped into it and anchored the power to his soul and heart. He opened his eyes and briefly saw the energy within the room. He blinked and it dissipated. He gently touched Aurora with his muzzle and a wave of energy passed over her, disguising the evidence of their night. Alexei's conscience kept him from wiping her memory, but he made certain that no one but them would know. He closed his eyes as he finished covering their tracks. He thought to himself, "What other holes will I dig for myself before this is through?" He didn't regret his decision, but he feared what possible outcomes would come of it. He stood up and stretched his limbs. Using his power, he quickly cleaned himself.
Alexei suddenly felt weak, and his head was pounding like a war drum. He stumbled back to the bed and collapsed, passing out before his head hit the cushion.

It was midnight. Alexei was surrounded by trees so tall that they seemed to touch the sky. He was standing on top of a lake, it's surface like a dazzling mirror. The water was cold against his feet, sending a shiver through him. Small ripples appeared around his feet as he took small steps forward. Above him was the full moon, shining down on him. There were multiple glowing eyes watching him in the darkness below the treetops. He could sense the presence of Lycans in the trees and he became nervous. Alexei stopped at the edge of the water, unable to move to dry land. He frowned and turned back, towards the center of the lake. He stood at the center, aware of the crowd watching him from the trees. There was a rumble of thunder in the distance and Alexei looked around him, searching for the source. Behind him stood Mother Luna, an amused look on her face. She was different somehow, her size closer to his than before. The water glowed a vibrant sapphire blue beneath her paws. She circled him slowly, the golden tips of her fur shimmering in the moonlight.
"Have fun, Alexei?" , she chided.
Alexei could feel his cheeks flush, "Mother Luna, I... I..."
She stopped him, her purple eyes fierce. "You let your instincts guide you."
Alexei looked down at his paws, "Yes, Mother Luna. It was a stupid thing to do."
An image of Aurora was looking back at him from the water and he sighed. His heart burned with guilt as he thought about his actions.
Luna shook her head, stepping towards him. She nudged him with her muzzle comfortingly. The touch sent a jolt like lightning through Alexei, and he could feel all of his urges and desires flow through him again. He groaned involuntarily and his eyes glazed over in ecstasy. He looked at Luna curiously as he fought to control the burning in his *****. Ice began to form at his feet, stopping him from moving. She smiled and whispered seductively, "Who do you think sparks instincts in Lycans, Alexei?" Luna leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "I do. You did as I hoped you would." She nipped at his ear, forcing another shiver through his body before she stepped back, clearly pleased with herself.
Alexei took a moment to respond, carefully forming his words while attempting to hide his feral lust. "You wanted me to mate with her. Then you have a plan, Mother Luna?"
She smirked, turning and flicking her tail at Alexei's nose, forcing another wave of urges through him. His legs began to shake and she grinned. "Of course. Whether you realize it or not, every move you make can affect the people around you. Aurora is now loyal to you. By satisfying her urges, you also fueled her lust for you." Luna laughed to herself. She turned and stretched her limbs, lifting her tail for Alexei to see. She grinned wildly as he whimpered.
Luna turned back to face him, hiding her amusement. She rubbed her body along his side, her tail curling around his neck and then down his back. She stopped as he whimpered fiercely. He was blushing madly, fighting the urges with all his might. Luna kept grinning, saying in an airy voice, "I can make you do anything I want, Alexei." She walked behind him and flicked her tail between his legs, the tip running along the length of his groin. Alexei lost all form of thought and he began panting. Luna licked her lips and walked slowly in front of him. "See? There's no use fighting instinct, Alexei. I gave it to you for a reason." She looked at Alexei, his eyes full to the brim with desire.
Alexei tried to speak, his tongue tied in knots, "I... Why...?" He shivered, whispering, "****."
Luna took a step towards him, "Exactly." She got close to him, enough that her scent was overwhelming to him. She whispered in his ear, "What's the point of being a god if you can't have a little fun." She stomped her foot once and the ice around Alexei's legs shattered. He took a tentative step forward, still under the influence of his desire.
Luna circled him again, standing with her back to him. She stretched again, lifting her tail as before. She glanced back at him, saying, "It's up to you on what to do now. Don't disappoint me."
Alexei couldn't help himself. He quickly walked behind her and put his front paws on her shoulders as he mounted her. Luna allowed him to push her hind paws away as he had done to Aurora. She did not wait for him as she ****** herself backwards onto him. She growled, pleased. "There you go."
As his body touched hers, his mind and body was flooded with vigor as her own desire amplified his own. Alexei bit down on her neck to keep from howling as they mated. His mind and heart were racing as he subconsciously tapped into his power, using a bit of its energy to invigorate his efforts to please the god beneath him. Luna felt his pace quicken and she grinned, "That's right. Don't disappoint me, darling."
She closed her eyes and let the waves of pleasure wash over her. Her mouth hung open as she panted. Luna howled as her lust was filled, soon followed by Alexei's growls of ecstasy as he finished. Alexei collapsed as he broke contact with her, his body still quivering. Luna stood smoothly, her legs and tail wet with their ***. She bent down and touched him with her nose, saying, "Good. You didn't disappoint me."
Alexei panted and closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was back in the bed next to Aurora. His heart was still pounding as he thought about the dream. "Was it a dream?" , Alexei thought. He felt exhausted again, even though he had been resting. "I don't think it was."
He looked at Aurora, sleeping peacefully where he had left her. "Did I just mate with a god?" The thought ran circles around him as he relived every moment. It had felt real, and there wasn't the usual haziness of dreams.
Alexei shook his head and stood up. He looked to Aurora and he gently woke her with a nudge on the neck. She slowly blinked awake and she yawned, looking at him. "Morning, Alpha."
Alexei nodded, "Morning, Aurora." He gestured to the door, saying, "It may be best if you left before anyone finds out you stayed here. I don't smell anyone else awake yet so now is our chance."
Aurora nodded, "Good idea." She stretched quickly and ran up the stairs, silently pushing the door open and scanning the area. Once she was certain it was clear she ran back to the cabin. Alexei followed her soon after, covering her scent as she disappeared from view. He breathed a sigh of relief as he made sure no wolf was awake.
Alexei sniffed the air, taking in the myriad of scents nearby. To his knowledge, no other Alphas were nearby. He began to wander around the snowy forest, keeping an eye out for a sizable deer that could be his breakfast. Alexei looked up, seeing the daylight through the tops of the tall trees. He remarked to himself about how those trees were much like the ones from his dream.
His heart stopped for a second and he sniffed the air, sea

"Nadia"
"Hope," it means.
"Beautiful," they say.
"Kind," she is.
"Caring," they are.

"Nadia."
She is the ever-hopeful,
The triply beautiful,
The very kindhearted,
The infinitely caring.

"Nadia"'s.
They are the unendingly positive,
The unfairly lovely,
The unduly affable,
The unfailingly kind.

"Nadia," oh, how she shines
So brightly, so comfortingly.
"Nadia," oh, how she loves
Without judgement or favor.
But I am not "Nadia."

I am Nadia.

Bread from waxed paper packet
a childhood memory of mum making tea
snow white, thick sliced
fringed with a brown crust
comfortingly heavy, ****** smelling
the butter pleases me
covered under the tub lid
with a coated paper peeled back
to reveal a thick golden slab of
churned cream easily spread, cold
straight from the fridge onto waiting
fibrous surface, allowing it to sink in
cheese in a yellow block, related to
the butter in so many ways, dairy
a long lost brother, sliced thick with
a proper knife with the pointed curved
tip, designed to ***** and pick up
each slice, placing carefully on the bed
prepared for it to rest, ready for the final
ochre coloured element, mustard, from
a glass jar using a teaspoon, to dollop
before resting a second buttered slice
on top to make a creation, a taste sensation

“I keep expecting people to care. To worry about me. To pull me back when I push them away. To be my umbrella on the rainy days. To try harder, ask and reach out. But when they don’t, it breaks my heart. I know it sounds irrational, but I feel disappointed. And once I’ve healed from the experience, I go back to hoping once more. It’s like I never learn my lesson.” Each word reeked of despair and regrets as they slipped off my tongue.
“Yeah, I understand you. I do the same.” She said in the most reassuring of ways with her hand holding mine. Her ocean blue eyes were comfortingly soft and deep with wisdom. “The only thing that really has been getting me through is trusting myself enough to care when someone doesn’t do the same. To catch myself when someone else doesn’t.”

How dare you.
How, DARE, you.
Try to talk to me...
as if you don't remember anything.

I trusted you back then
when I needed a friend,
you were nothing of the sort!
You were the opposite.

I try my best, I try really hard
to leave grudges in my past...
but I have a dreaded feeling
that this grudge for you, may last.

Pretending to be there for me,
patting my back so comfortingly.
When really all you were doing
was luring me in.

Down to last second.
Before I was faint,
I swear I remember
the smile on your face.

I can't stand it.
How easily you decided my fate.
How do ******* live with yourself?
You make me feel things I can't bare to say.

I don't tell you very often, but you're a really inspiring person,
And you're one of the people
(if not the person)
I admire most in the world.
You mean a lot more to me than I ever tell you.
We don't get into feelings a lot in person, I guess. It's just not part of our dynamic.
We talk about ideas and thoughts, but not necessarily how we feel about each other.

Often times before I go to sleep I think of you and miss you and want to cry a little because I think
We got lost for too long during our relationship, and I never actually got to tell you
That I love you
In a really special way that I don't think I'll ever love anyone else.
You've probably influenced my beliefs and the way I think more than anyone else,
And I'm really grateful for it,
Because no matter where we are in relation to each other, I always have a really strong connection to you,
Because a little bit of you is a part of me.

I really really hope you do live to be a hundred, or better a hundred and ten, like you said.
Don't start thinking like you're old- you're only as old as you feel.
I like to see you as eternal,
Like a tall tree that has seen every storm and sunny day,
That's always comfortingly there to support you or shelter you as the weather requires.
I know you're not, but I like to see you that way.
Even though I've seen your flaws and weaknesses as I've gotten older,
In my heart you always remain the person
Whose every word I followed without question out on the rocks or in the woods
Because I knew you'd keep me safe.
I guess I really want you to know that, because I've said a lot of things,
But never that you're more important to me than you think you are,
Or that I respect you a lot more than I let on,
Or that sometimes when I'm tired and my day has ****** I want a hug from you so much that I could cry.
In a weird way, you might be the person I'm closest to intellectually and spiritually and philosophically.
I just want you to know that that trust you had from me as a child
Isn't gone at all,
And neither is how much I love you.
I hope I meet many people in my life as extraordinary as you, but I sort of doubt I will.
Even though you have qualities I disagree with,
And you make mistakes,
The way you live your life is something I strive for,
And something I admire.
Every little girl's dad is their hero,
And my childhood sort of prevented me from telling you
That you're mine.

Walking alone in the midst of the trees
the wind there was blowing gently and
everything was moving it seemed except me.
The birds were twittering in the branches overhead
singing out their love for nature and whilst listening
didn't share in their praise but envied them instead.
I could feel something watching unsure of what I intended
and sense something telling them about me to take caution;
keep out of reach, fear and harm is perhaps what I represented.
But what was this thing or feeling that I was sensing?
Could it be the ceasing of the wind and the stillness that
was effected or the hours of darkness that were falling?
My presence and expanding awareness was perhaps the likely answer.
But there was also, I could sense, a general saline moisture in the air
reminding me of tears and the ocean, from which did the wind transfer?
I kept on walking slowly along following a path I could barely see
seeking some place where I could find my joy to rejoice in and so
nearing the edge of the forest had no idea where that place would be.
What lay ahead in the stretch of land seemed like mere desolation
so, after hesitating a little and pondering, began traversing that land
because there was much more to witness from direct observation.
That which I witnessed amidst the trees was only part of what there was to see
and as I continued making my way slowly forward along the land,
I stumbled on something and fell thinking how cruel nature was to me.
While laying there for some time propped up on elbows with head drooping down
could not help feeling the way I did and wishing the grass was much taller
so that I might bury my head in it and become one with the ground.
When one is alone and lonely one does often think of many things,
not necessarily depending on the state of mind or mood one is in;
calmness, quietude and reflection are the fruits that solitude brings.

People, it seems to me that, when they are running the risk
of being swept away by a  strong and prevailing tide
that could drown them, always try to find a higher more secure ground.
But how high can they go and how long there can they  abide?
This was almost the case with me for I was drowning in my own thought
and with the onset of darkness perhaps I was trying not to get caught.
Thus I ventured forth straight into the unknown it seemed.
How far and which way could or would I go was deemed
only by time which would tell if I reached my destination
with no one and nothing to guide me but my imagination.

Sitting up I realised, after looking about me, was a kind of day
in which everything seemed serene and beautiful with the sun
shedding its last warmth and light, the air gently blowing away
its freshness and sense of freedom, this day was almost done.

Yet the darkness still was falling and thought provoking
and bearing all of its weight there upon me.
Could it be that only when, under pressure experiencing,
does one look then at what is really to see?

For ere the sun and moon fully exchanged their places,
to govern the land and sea, in the majestic sky awe inspiring,
I saw looking up into those vast luminous starry spaces
there was still light that shone upon me which was much desiring.

The sun on the horizon was going down in a shimmering sea
of calm movement, shedding as it were its reserve flood of light
in my eyes, warmth on my body and actively seemed to guide me
as the path lying ahead was still unforeseen and nowhere in sight.

Heavenly light was enlightening my world before me and binding
my mind in a state of exalted wakefulness as if there was yet more to come.
Although we can only all go on until so far as our fate is allowing,
will we never see through our blindness what's awaiting us under the sun?

For every man, woman and child there is a story that will never be told
and so we can surely hit the target but, will we ever meet the mark?
The wrath wrought through the misinterpretation of nature's role of old
in our lives will have its share to account for our being in the dark.

The moon with its full glare of moonbeams was there starring at me
as I looked up into what was so much more to behold and happening;
the stars were sprinkling their light in the heavens and could also see,
they were holding me captive beyond comprehension and beckoning.

And I began feeling a sense of attraction rise somewhere from within,
responding to this outward magnitude of enchantment transfixed stood,
and closing my eyes experienced a tingling warmth from my waist begin
rising up my spine and reach into the crown of my head as if it should.

And to seemingly flow out above through the recesses and ends of my hair
as if embracing and reverentially acknowledging, on some deep inner level,
a magnificent presence, comforting and soothing, invisible yet somehow there.
With feelings of inexplicable security and overwhelming love I began to revel.

As if nothing else existing; a conscious knowing of Almighty Being
which was centred within and yet everywhere all around revealing.
A step beyond imagination with a higher faculty operating
it was a bewildering and profound experience of becoming.

Yet I was very young then not knowing what age now
and oftentimes I found myself yearning as if somehow
there could be an almighty Splendour such as He
so reassuring to know that He was always with me.
And whenever turning within humbly, sincerely addressing,
He would always receive motherly - like my love offering,
comfortingly remove my sorrow and feeling of separation
embracing me in His invisible ***** - friend like affiliation.

Through the simple sayings and stories old assimilated
of words the Lord Jesus Christ sometime said indicated
in daily living I would find encouragement and confirmation
of the truth my mind then grasping subtle as if in revelation.
A little was almost too much and  yet so overwhelming
an ever present certainty the more one tries expressing
the use of words are near futile it seems
like memories of half forgotten dreams.

Many were the days that passed and very few were those amongst them
in which I began to find favour once more with that Old Friend and Gem.
Being as it were in life's quest, bedazzled by the apparently real, I saw my mind
which was caught as a fish in a net and offered freedom of a very limited kind
and even much less if one was not knowingly overcome; seeking release in
its strong captivating charm of illusory values and make believe ways within.

After many years and in a certain place behind some church
in a car park early in the twilight it happened so unexpectedly.
To my amazement, I saw a small tree growing in a little garden beside
the parking area, and as I got out of my car stretching my legs walking
towards it, and with eyes gazing at it, saw that this tree was alive and could see the sap
which was coursing through its trunk and boughs circulating around in it like blood
passing through the veins in a person’s body but of a transparent colour and so it was
that nobody else was there and everything for a long moment seemed very quiet and still.
__________________­_____

My truth is that I teeter atop a constant precipice of blazing boldness and utter fear.

I tip toe a fine line of longing to be unapologetically passionate, raw and subversive - and comfortingly cordial, gentle and "nice."

My favorite colors are witchcraft black and angel pink.

I unabashedly groove to both bass bottomed gangster rap and dreamy, trippy synth pop - equally.

I rise each day to blaze a trail of fiery transformation - holding my flag high in the sky for all to see and follow - and end each day wanting to hide in my rabbit hole reading about herbal remedies and making tinctures and potions that the world.

My favorite flower is the optimistic tulip, but I find strength in the weeping willow.

I sing fierce songs of freedom, injustice and equality out loud, while humming soft songs of sweetness and peace and love to myself.

I'm both Dorothy and the Great and Powerful Oz.

I long to scream wisdom from the rooftops, as long as I don't hurt anyone's feelings.

I relate to the women of both Girls and Golden Girls.

I want socialism but I don’t want anyone to tell me what to do.

I get a thrill by telling arrogant people off with a witty sarcastic remark, and then feel heavy remorse because I wish I hadn't created such a divide.

I am a warrior for women’s rights, but I’ve also been a mean girl and a recovering bulimic.

I want someone to love me completely while I love them utterly, but I don’t want to be engulfed by the heady perfume and fluorescent distraction of romance.

I admire both Charles Bukowski and Simone de Beauvoir as equals.

I don’t want to care what the hell you think of me, but I want you to love and worship me just the same.

I roll my eyes when older men date much younger women, but find myself attracted to much younger dudes than myself.

I bow to the bodies of “real women” while secretly dreaming of what it must be like to be a supermodel.

I want to be adored as much as I want to be respected.

I worship the Goddess on my knees but also find Jesus to be a true prophet of love, and kind of a babe.

I’m as silly as I am intense, and I’m as insane as I am sane.

My ultimate truth is that I'm a lover and a fighter,
a saint and a *****,
an angel and a demon,
a divine spirit and a hot mess.

I envelop each contradiction passionately, balancing them equally like a tightrope walker in the wind. Frustrated and wondering how the hell I got here, but also awestruck and loving the view.

You see, I have come to learn that the sign of a true rebel is the one who wears her heart on her sleeve - while giving zero *****, sowing compassion, taking no ****, mending fences and slaying dragons.

It’s a sticky summer and I do laundry every other night-
I can’t keep clean.

Wednesday morning, early August, while leaning (not cleaning)
across the gritty counter where I earn a paycheck, I
feel the last deep pull of my lungs before they surrender to rust.
A calm vision catches in the coursing current of my blood
and floats, untethered, through ****** channels of vein.
In the way some women sense pregnancy before their body gives
them any clues, I know I am in decay.

It’s been so easy to confuse the materialization
of hips; stretching and grazing after a long hibernation,
with the steel-toe heaviness of my heart.

Both have me tripping over myself,
shivering and admiring the hem of my skirt
as it dances in time with the circles
I keep turning in; giggling alone
and taking stuttering steps down the cereal aisle
for the third time this week.

Hip and heart are equally quick to bruise
and when a laugh too high, too loud,
too insincere rattles my lips;
a staggered, cold gale stings
both my gnarled pelvis
and the grimy bit of light
that sits behind my sternum.

Every piece of me blushes and
pinky promises it’s neighbor it
will do better. Will be quieter. Will keep
to a light simmer and not erupt boiling and steamy.

The bones cross their heart and hope to die.
The tendons nod with big eyes and try not to blink
as the message travels through my anatomy like a panicky
game of telephone. The head bone’s connected to
the back bone, (we’ve got this) the back bone’s connected to
the hip bone (we just need to focus) the hip bone’s
connected to the thigh bone (we’re done speaking today.)
Dem bones, dem bones gonna rise again.

It’s a sticky summer and studying my hands
has become a national past-time. No matter how much
sweat has pooled in the dip of my clavicles or dampened
the swatch of hair below my ponytail, my palms keep
cold. Fingers shake consistently. Rings fit well, then pinch
too tight then slide off too loose in the lifetime of one afternoon.
I’m wasting a lot of time willing myself to stabilize.

It’s a sticky summer and the hip and heart within me-
the ones I never asked to be responsible for,
are expanding to fill the dunes of ice I hid under all winter,
which have begun to melt. My brain pulses loud and hot,
untamed by my skull and I have to sit down for a minute.

Following the quick, thin stream of my thawing winter with tired eyes
I realize how clean it is. Clear but comfortingly foggy like sea glass. Like the warming dashboard of a below zero drive through the night.
It’s decay but it’s also ripening.

If leaves didn’t crumple and fall to the ground
how would we know when to put our sweaters on?
Eventually the stream will dry up and become something of
an entirely different definition.
And so will I.

I don't tell you very often, but you're a really inspiring person,
And you're one of the people
(if not the person)
I admire most in the world.
You mean a lot more to me than I ever tell you.
We don't get into feelings a lot in person, I guess. It's just not part of our dynamic.
We talk about ideas and thoughts, but not necessarily how we feel about each other.

Often times before I go to sleep I think of you and miss you and want to cry a little because I think
We got lost for too long during our relationship, and I never actually got to tell you
That I love you
In a really special way that I don't think I'll ever love anyone else.
You've probably influenced my beliefs and the way I think more than anyone else,
And I'm really grateful for it,
Because no matter where we are in relation to each other, I always have a really strong connection to you,
Because a little bit of you is a part of me.

I really really hope you do live to be a hundred, or better a hundred and ten, like you said.
Don't start thinking like you're old- you're only as old as you feel.
I like to see you as eternal,
Like a tall tree that has seen every storm and sunny day,
That's always comfortingly there to support you or shelter you as the weather requires.
I know you're not, but I like to see you that way.
Even though I've seen your flaws and weaknesses as I've gotten older,
In my heart you always remain the person
Whose every word I followed without question out on the rocks or in the woods
Because I knew you'd keep me safe.
I guess I really want you to know that, because I've said a lot of things,
But never that you're more important to me than you think you are,
Or that I respect you a lot more than I let on,
Or that sometimes when I'm tired and my day has ****** I want a hug from you so much that I could cry.
In a weird way, you might be the person I'm closest to intellectually and spiritually and philosophically.
I just want you to know that that trust you had from me as a child
Isn't gone at all,
And neither is how much I love you.
I hope I meet many people in my life as extraordinary as you, but I sort of doubt I will.
Even though you have qualities I disagree with,
And you make mistakes,
The way you live your life is something I strive for,
And something I admire.
Every little girl's dad is their hero,
And my childhood sort of prevented me from telling you
That you're mine.

Last night when you held me
in the warmth of your arms
clasped comfortingly to your chest
whipsered words of devotion in my ear
inhaled my perfume lingering on my hair
traced the curve of my cheek
with your fingertip so very gently
is a night I would never trade
for anything in this lifetime or beyond.

For in those precious minutes
my heart beat faster than normal
my inner core came to life
my whole body seemed to tingle
the blood coursed through my viens
with a rhythm never known before
my eyes were lit by the stars from heaven
my breath caught in my throat
for at that very moment I fell in love.

Lead
I wake up and my head is as heavy as lead
The bed is hugging me tightly
telling me that if I stay, ill be safe
The bed drown me comfortingly
with the tears that I've wept

Sting
My eyes sting from the lack of sleep
they sting like my tears are poison
I walk to school obstinately
because I know I am part of a hoard fo depressed children
trying not to succumb to the urge to **** themselves
before the gunman does that job for us


Black
While I'm writing my 3rd essay this week
a black cloud suffocates me
its smoke climbing its way into my airway
turning into ink as it enters my lungs
I walk around with the cloud

Cry
I am trying to keep myself together
when we get a division problem
a simple equation that anyone could do
but I forget how to divide by 5
I feel the tears crawling from my chest
I start to feel like I cant breath
I choke down the tears

Pills
I have to take pills now
they help
I'm not ashamed of it
though I'm scared
I'm scared that if I run out
I'm going to hurt myself...
But I won't. I need to have confidence in myself

Please seek help

The girl across the room is a stranger.
Her hair is familiar, her face is comfortingly reassuring,
But her eyes speak of trauma,
Of forgotten dreams and aspirations that shatter daily.
In the lines of her tired face I see a dreamer,
And in the pools of her eyes I see a perfect disaster.
Where there was once pure, undiluted hope and happiness,
there is now a dulled pretense.

She feels like a rich, red juice that has been drawn out too far
With tainted water,
Or like a piece of string, pulled taut for so long
that it cannot snap back into its original, unspoiled shape.

In her wearied sigh I hear all of her unspoken truths;
All of the things which she has never said but that need saying anyway.
The girl across the room is my friend.
Her voice is like a song I know all the words to,
Her face is as familiar to me as my own.

In the brightness of her smile I see a warrior,
And in the melody of her laughter I hear my imperfect saviour.
Where there was once desperation and despair,
There is now a golden spark of hope.
In my own tired sigh, I hear a future for the first time;
All of the dreams which I have never followed,
But that need following anyway.
The girl across the room is everything,
And I am nothing.

“Everyone goes through this,” they say, comfortingly
“Everyone gets over it.” I hear, disheartened
“So many people care about you.” They say, encouragingly
“Don’t disappoint those who care for you.” I hear, dejected
“You’ve done so much to be proud of!” They say, smiling
“What happened to the you who did things?” I hear, terrified
“This happens to me all the time; don’t worry.” They say, reassuring
“Be better.” I hear. I’m not you. And I’m petrified.  
“These things take time. Be patient.” They say, concerned
“Get over it already.” I hear, numb
“Ignore your brain trying to get you down.” They say, supportive
“Don’t trust yourself.” I hear. Save me. I’m not ok.
I’m afraid of my own feelings.
“This is normal.” They say.
I spend 3 hours just staring at the ceiling.
“Take it one step at a time.”
I feeling like I’m slowly withering away.
“Don’t give up!”
I’m just going through the motions everyday
“See? You’re getting better!” They say, cheerful.
For them, I try
“I’m fine.” I say, hesitant and fearful
They believe me, satisfied.
*I’m a liar.

The night is dark and peaceful.
The city lights create a certain ambiance.
The warm breeze comfortingly engulfs.

If this were any other night
You would be here.
But it's not any other night
And you're not here.
And you aren't going to be here.
Something I have to get used to now.

I can't help but think
If you were here
We'd hold hands
And walk in the night
And talk about things

We'd talk about all kinds of things.
Things like religion.
Things like politics.
And all of those other things
You aren't supposed to talk about.

We'd keep holding hands.
And we'd keep walking in the night.
And then you'd kiss me goodnight.

But on this warm, dark, and peaceful city night
You aren't here.
And you won't ever be here.

Will loving him repair his broken heart?
Will kind words heal wounds inflicted?
Will patience show him he is worth waiting for?
Will forgiveness show him
That he can look forward now, and not back?
Can X's and O's fill
the crevices and canyons of his soul?
He cannot find liquor strong enough,
nor painkillers numbing enough,
no cut deep enough,
or risky behaviours risky enough to mask his pain
He says "it happens"
she shrugs as he tells you
the pieces of his puzzle he'd rather forget
Never sheds a tear,
but you can see him shake when he has to
"be a man" at 16
six schools, four years, no one he can count on
"I'm the one he comes to" she says
"When his mind is not with him,
when he drink or the drug sweeps his thoughts away
like a forceful wind,
his subconscious longs for me"
He calls her late into the night,
his voice a mumble
and his words nonsense
She speaks to him softly, comfortingly,
until she can hear his gentle snoring.
Then she cries herself to sleep,
because she's not sure if he'll ever be better
or if he'll ever say " I love you"
without alcohol as his wingman
Or be able to make it through the day without
a sip
a puff
a cut
And she can't help but wonder: is loving him enough?

“My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains”
my mind as I sit in my overgrown grassy field.
I lie back, and look at the last rays of sunlight,
glimmer across the green leaves of the trees,
that creep up behind me in their sneaky ways.
My head is throbbing as silent tears slip down,
unseen by anyone other than the stars in dark,
my pale cheeks, and my messy, knotted hair.
I curl up in a ball on my side in the blackening night.
I hold my arms tightly around myself, desperately,
trying to keep from completely falling apart.
My choked sobs echo in the woods that reach,
comfortingly, out to me. I am tempted to go;
to climb into my favorite tree, settle in my place,
and just lie there forever-until unconsciousness
becomes my lonely eternity. Animals, insects,
and bugs are dead silent while I cry myself to sleep,
in the soft, caring grass, and my final wish,
before I go under, is that it hadn’t been him;
it hadn’t been me, and that everything would
be back to normal, and it was nothing but,
a sad, frightening, horrible, impossible dream.

"Everyone goes through this,"
They say 'comfortingly.'
Maybe they go through something like this,
But not this.
They don't get it.
No one does.
Sometimes even I don't,
But the burning...
It's changing me.

I want this so bad,
And everything wants so badly to hold me back.

Silence can be comfortingly loud
a gentle squidgy giant.

tell me how is it easy
for you put yourself to rest
each & every cold night
knowing that i am home
crying tears of you in the dark
cradling myself as a baby
in my bed of depressed moisture
as you once did comfortingly
when you were committedly mine

The soft scent of my best friend's cologne,
Whips my, surprisingly
Clear mind, 
Back to a bittersweet haze of a night. 
***** lights bonfires in my throat
As Ed Sheeran plays tinny over the miniscule car speakers
My heart burns, 
Flames lick their way up my chest, 
My neck. 
They curl, almost comfortingly
Around my voice box
And so, 
I can't talk. 
But I manage, 
Painstakingly 
To drown the fire, just enough to scream the lyrics 
See, the love thrown at me by my friends, 
Like a blanket around a victims shaky shoulders, 
Was a dogs lick to my open wounds.
The music erased the last words he spoke to me, from the forefront of my mind
Even replaced the words, with a sweeter melody.
And I realised, 
Oh so suddenly 
That everything I know about him, 
All his little quirks, I noticed 
Apparent mostly in the darkest moments, 
Just before dawn
The things that made him, him 
Made him mine, 
Were all now, just 
Leftover, 
Seemingly meaningless, 
Facts.