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poetry blurb

guilt

seeps in the bones

flames lie low

closet door shuts

faeries pull and tug

music

thru the key hole

listen

Guilt sucks. Not just the skeletons in the closet type but the type that tries to overpower inner beauty, talents, and gifts. Guilty for being radiant? NOT COOL.

blisters

Blistering souls soothed by art, healed by love, slapped by truth and thrown in this cycle so many times hysterical laughter follows

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Soak

Dear soul, yes you. I would love to soak up your Love, so invigorating, so soothing. 

I've travelled a very long time to get hear. Ages. Here. Are you really listening?

Some of you are scumbags some of you are real. I wish you had the time

to notice

the journey

of

each

droplet.

You know that droplet, running down that glass. 

Windows to an inside outside world. 

Humor me. I would love to soak up your love. 

When I was a child, on rainy days, in the back of the car, I would make up stories about each droplet running down the windows. They raced in a weird diagonal way. There were always unexpected winners.

A droplet outta of nowhere gained momentum.

pastpresentfuture get blurry

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A prayer and reminder

Dear Hero,

Out over there and here is a maze,

a labyrinth. If you're steady and true

you'll find 

a blade 

drenched in golden hymns...

sung by angels of death,

sung by angels of birth...

And though you can plunge that damned blade into your heart a thousand times over you cannot not die but live more fiercely. Trust. Faith. A beating pulse that shatters everything that cannot stand true against it. 

Dear god, remind me to be tender and soft, the roots of my innocence restored and perfect, ready to offer all of myself to you. 

Wink and laugh my love, Wink and laugh. 

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