She was done not fully being herself.
She realized she was the only self she could be—and not being unapologetically true to herself was a disservice to her soul and the world.
She was done listening to the noise of the world. She realized the quiet voice of her own soul was the most beautiful sound.
She was done questioning her motives, her intentions, the call of her soul. She realized questions seek answers, and maybe she already knew the answers.
She was done striving, forcing, pushing through and staying on the hard path. She realized toughing things out might be a sign to pick another path.
She was done with friends that admonished her to be more light and breezy. She realized they didn’t understand she swam in the deep waters of life, she felt at home in their dark depths and died if she lived on the surface.
She was done with the distractions, the denials, the small addictions that pulled her away from the true desires of her soul. She realized that strength of character came from focus and commitment.
She was done not following the desires that yelled out in her soul every day. She realized if she did nothing about them, they died a quiet death that took a piece of her soul with them.
She was done with dinner parties and cocktail hours where conversations skimmed the surface of life. She realized the beverages created distortion and a temporary happiness that wasn’t real and disappeared in the light of the day.
She was done trying to please everyone. She realized it could never be done.
She was done questioning herself. She realized her heart knew the truth and she needed to follow it.
She was done analyzing all the options, weighing the pros and cons and trying to figure everything out before leaping. She realized that taking a leap implied not fully seeing where she landed.
She was done battling with herself, trying to change who she knew herself to be. She realized the world made it hard enough to fully be herself, so why add to the challenge.
She was done worrying, as if worry was the price she had to pay to make it all turn out okay. She realized worry didn’t need to be part of the process.
She was done apologizing and playing small to make others feel comfortable and fit in. She realized fitting in was overrated and shining her light made others brave enough to do the same.
She was done with the should’s, ought to’s and have to’s of the world. She realized the only must’s in her life came from things that beat so strong in her soul, she couldn’t not do them.
She was done with remorse and could have’s. She realized hindsight never applies because circumstances always look different in the rearview mirror and you experience life looking through the front window.
She was done with friendships based on shared history and past experiences. She realized if friends couldn’t grow together, or were no longer following the same path, it was okay to let them go.
She was done trying to fit in—be part of the popular crowd. She realized the price she had to pay to be included was too high and betrayed her soul.
She was done not trusting. She realized she had placed her trust in people that were untrustworthy—so she would start with the person she could trust the most—herself.
She was done being tired. She realized it came from spending her time doing things that didn’t bring her joy or feed her soul.
She was done trying to figure it all out, know the answers, plan everything and see all the possibilities before she began. She realized life was unfolding and that the detours and unexpected moments were some of the best parts.
She was done needing to be understood by anyone but herself. She realized she was the only person she would spend her whole with and understanding herself was more important than being understood by others.
She was done looking for love. She realized loving and accepting herself was the best kind of love and the seed from which all other love started.
She was done fighting, trying to change or not her accepting her body. She realized the body she came into the world with was the only one she had—there were no exchanges or returns—so love and acceptance was the only way.
She was done being tuned in, connected and up-to-date all the time. She realized the news and noise of the world was always there—a cacophony that never slowed or fell quiet and that listening to the silence of her soul was a better station to tune into.
She was done beating herself up and being so ******* herself as if either of these things led to changes or made her feel better. She realized kindness and compassion towards herself and others accomplished more.
She was done comparing and looking at other people’s lives as a mirror for her own. She realized holding her own mirror cast her in the best, most beautiful light.
She was done being quiet, unemotional and holding her tongue. She realized her voice and her emotions could be traced back to her deepest desires and longings. if she only followed their thread.
She was done having to be right. She realized everyone’s truth was relative and personal to themselves, so the only right that was required was the one that felt true for her.
She was done not feeling at home in the world. She realized she might never feel at home in the world, but that feeling at home in her soul was enough.
She was done being drained by others—by people who didn’t want to take the time for their own process and saw shortcuts though hers. She realized she could share her experience, but everyone needed to do the work themselves.
She was done thinking she had so much to learn. She realized she already knew so much, if she only listened.
She was done trying to change others or make them see things. She realized she could only lead by example and whether they saw or followed was up to them.
She was done with the inner critic. She realized its voice was not her own.
She was done racing and being discontent with where she was. She realized the present moment held all it needed to get her to the next moment. It wasn’t out there—it was right here.
She was done seeing hurt as something to be avoided, foreseen or somehow her fault. She realized hurt shaped her as much as joy and she needed both to learn and grow.
She was done judging. She realized judging assumed the presence of right and wrong—and that there was a difference between using information to inform and making someone else wrong.
She was done jumping to conclusions. She realized she only needed to ask.
She was done with regrets. She realized if she had known better she would have done better.
She was done being angry. She realized anger was just a flashlight that showed her what she was most scared of and once it illuminated what she needed to see, she no longer needed to hold on to it.
She was done being sad. She realized sorrow arose when she betrayed her own soul and made choices that weren’t true to herself.
She was done playing small. She realized if others couldn’t handle her light, it was because they were afraid of their own.
She was done with the facades and the pretending. She realized masks were suffocating and claustrophobic.
She was done with others’ criticism and complaints. She realized they told her nothing about herself—only informed her of their perspective.
She was done yelling above the noise of the world. She realized living out loud could be done quietly.
She was done needing permission, validation or the authority. She realized she was her her own authority.
She was done being something she was not. She realized the purpose of life was to be truly, happily who she was born to be,and if she paused long enough to remember, she recognized herself.*

Adrienne Pieroth

An unrequited lust
A long hard journey
That began some eight hundred days ago

A burning passion
As plans were made
Three hundred days
Until their final destination

A dark haired man
A curly haired beauty
Finally joining sight
As they gaze upon each other

A swift run to hug
An everlasting embrace
Perfection of scent
And joyous blending of heartbeats

A quiet ride to the house
A new home
A perfect home
One filled with laughter and love

A soft embrace
A gentle kiss
A wave of desire
Overcoming the odds

A deepening of kiss
The toughing of tongues
A thirst for love
That has gone so far unquenched

The shedding of clothes
The removal of barriers
Skin on skin
In rapturous delight

A wave of desire
Yearning touches
A need to be
Part of the whole

A long hard shaft
A warm wet cave
Legs intertwined
One perfect being

The rising of heat
The smell of humidity
The buoyant cried of joy
The energetic moans of ecstasy

Panting together
Never letting go
Finally at a place
Where they both belong

Waiting their time
They made it

Overcoming the evil
They made it

Fighting the odds
They made it

The long hard walk
They made it

Together
Forever
Love conquers all…7411

I don't think you realize how many times I've been hurt.
Really hurt.
Like the first scrape of summer,
when you fall off your bike.
Until you've done it so much,
you feel numb.
You know the pain is still there.
You don't want to know though.
Toughing it out takes time.
There's no band-aid for the blood shed.
And no one to kiss it and make it better,
because it's not supposed to hurt anymore.
So you stand up the next time you fall,
bruised
torn
broken.
For everyone to see.
But can you really have bravery,
for ignoring the pain?

A female Buddha,
the way she sat, not
love making, that some

other. Cross-legged,
he remembered her,
on that blue sofa, the

Mahler playing from
her hi-fi, her oval face,
soft features, that loud

laughter, the Glaswegian
accent cutting through
the attempted English

tones. The bottle of whisky
opened, the glasses filled,
supped, sipped or what

ever the word is, it happened.
It’s no good taking some
people out of the slums,

she said, you need to take
the slum out of the people.
She looked then nothing

like the former nun she
had been, he thought,
perfume invading the nose,

her hair piled in some out
of date Beehive, some
French queen prior to

revolution, she sat, glass
in hand, other plump
hand toughing his thigh,

rubbing her fingers up
and down. She wanted
to stir his pecker, wanted

motion through his jeans.
He listened to Mahler,
gazing beyond her at the

painting on the wall, that
tat she collected. Her
hand rubbed higher, her

soft tones suggestive, her
talk of slums and slum
dwellers put aside. An

evening of *** ahead, in
bed or on the sofa, with
the female Buddha, her

plump *******, thighs,
arms, maybe lost there
amongst the folds of flesh.

She despised his Marxian
philosophy, loved his
****** prowess, his proud

perfect pecker. He loved
her whisky, her soft to
touch skin, her *******

to allow him in. The female
Buddha gone now, her
heart gave out, he was told,

and looking back, years after
years, his youth misspent
at times, too much *****,

*** and moral lack, he had
moved on, improved, but
loved to smile and look back.

you grow your beard out a little in may and look
like a flyboy in 44 with a soft face, soft mouth
just toughing it out to get home to apple pie and books
the one with the glasses, so to speak.

new, but in a way that says "if i shaved it
i'd be cutting away the memory of every bead
of sweat i shed in the time that this all grew"

and you look at me and god
those are .50 calibre eyes
green as the pacific
clamouring with all the pain and silence
of its little islands.

There is quietness breeding out there, silence multiplies in the cold air, each frosted breath brings death to sound and footsteps gliding over icy ground make no noise.

It's a killer night, make no mistake,
loneliness takes no prisoners.

Here’s to a life lived in mirrors
Looking at you, looking at you
Looking back at you looking back
Through your glasses very darkly
To Greta Garbo on the phone
Waxing lyrically quite fantastically
About the joys of being alone
To Joan Crawford on the prowl
Couching a cast with every vowel
Telling Marilyn about her calling
And about the bombshell falling
On the emptiness of an ocean
Where no blonde is an island
Not even one in transit to Venus
Or some other heavenly body
Liking it hot and sometimes cool
Recounting their sins so Cardinale
Occasionally cracking a commandment
To a Sophia Lorenaissance princess
Returning home from Casablanca
So beautifully and unusually a suspect
Knowing she’s below suspicion
Lavishing serenely back in Hollywood
Wondering why Anita Ekberg fell
Like the silver dream’s golden foil
For fame and famous familiarity
Rediscovering tee-shirts as she went
That extra length for helpless notoriety
Without surviving such polite society
Or Grace and Kelly looking in
At you looking at her surprise
When stardom started whistling
At that gal from the windy city
Skinning her bucks Madonna style
Whip wisecracking her lady cat wiles
When Doris finally made her day
Inside that very holy wooden shrine
Renowned for famous fickle fortune
By passing shadow’s tripping failure
In the limelight of fantastic glamour
Having it all and loving the clamour
Before the system really damaged her
For toughing it out like Frances Farmer
The Deity from the silver scream
Her voice alone playing Saint Joan
When the mogul empire struck back
With a cast of riders in white coats
Halting a sweet Cordelia on the inside
As the tinsel world bade a shallow farewell
To another Angelina on the flipside
But glamour is as glamour does
So clamorous to a made up self
An’ there’s no clamour like Hollywood
Clamouring for another famous mirror
To see ourselves as others seldom see us
In realms of glittering golden clichés
Shimmering on the scarlet carpet
While worlds spin in awestruck wonder
At the mystic vision of light and shadow
Entranced by the mystery of the alchemy
Illuminating this lower light to heaven
Our senses ripped and vision stripped
By beauty’s outrageous plunder
And imagination’s helpless surrender
To that mirage with hooded lids
Never looking back at anything
Bringing it all to her Bette Davis eyes
And both her Betty Grable’s surprise
Shredding each soul’s futile resistance
Before the onslaught of her Divinity
Traipsed her spell through tinsel town
Draped in black with a golden halo
Stole the show with her red stiletto
Embedded in that wanton poster
Telling the world she won an award
For acting as she never meant to be
Selling it like some reluctant Ophelia
Wondering why they call her Cordelia
Whilst leering at her cinematic feature
Wearing hats of metaphysical mystery
On dreams eternal in a transient moment
Where every sin is an open invitation
To every door with a sign saying exit
Where tough guys come and wise guys go
But looking at you goes on forever
Inside hats of sparkling wonder
In the Hollywood hell of other people
Flashing their bulbs in prurient homage
At the sinning flash of a new décolletage
Of heavenly strutting star slight women
Stealing the show and loving the glow
And straightening out the golden rainbow
Dancing light fantastic on the brick yellow road
That’s the way those winning women glow.

The destitute,
the *******
the homeless and
the ******,

the word
irresolute
comes to mind
when I can't find
any other

and they're sat
huddled together
toughing out the
bitter cold weather,

it's a fact of life
that life for some
is no life at all.

One act of kindness
doesn't make a bible,
it just makes one of
the stories.

You said you'd be my Godfather.
But I'll be your personal little guiding mother.
I know you've never met somebody like me before ever.
And I'm only here to love you, open you up and get you ready.
Meanwhile I'd love the process, the moments.
And I'm free.
Tortured but free.
Loving harder than the pain.
Taking your pain away through touching you.
Showing you a different way through guiding you.

Having an impact on that part of the universe.
Just like you touch and impact my spirit so much around here and beyond.
It goes deeper than this place.
So don't just reach for the old teaching and the rules inside here.
Let me show you the way beyond Jesus and all these great preachers and teachers.
They're alright but it's all still within the rules of this place.
So let me show you these different places now, it'll get crazy but you won't because you're ready.
I'll show you where we both can go to, let go.
Be wild, crazy and free, ancient pagan natural.
Spiritual, divine, part of everything, inside our own world and creations.

All these different options I see.
They are just there everywhere all the time.
Time is relative.
Be creative with it.
Intensely loving the moment.
Intensely loving inside it.
Inside you, I'll guide you.
Just watch me.
You can do it too, do it with me.
Do it with me.

Always doing that job that I want to do even more after my work around here is done.
Let me, I'll trust the process.
But I'll still be rebellious me, always.
Meanwhile I love you, so special what you do to me.
But my brother doesn't like it.
My spirit brother's disappointed.
It hurts a lot to see that I have to let him down sometimes, not go with him everytime.
But I can only live from moment to moment.
I love him but it's been in me all the time to fight hard for these greater outcomes.

Intense missions.
Intense intensions.
Great moments.
Great gates opened wide perspectives.
Intense kisses.
Opening up spirit.
Toughing, feeling it.
Finally pushing through because I need to.
Because I can, it's my job, my mission.
Be the show that shows you everything I got to show.
Different directions.
Different dimensions.
Intense moments....

Godfather, let me entertain you.
Like money will never do.
Let me kiss you and push through all of your boundaries, your build up worries
You told me stories of the beast inside you.
Hold me like you'd hold these women that still see you as a beast.
Heal me, heal you, heal them hopefully too eventually.
Through my pain, I'll heal your pain, through your pain I'll open you, I'll love you.
I'll have a new mission to enjoy the outcome of.
As long as I'm still around.
Unable to really live, love, be alive.
Let me guide.