I’m just a
black flower, a
loving young doe
grazing on hyacinth meadows
revealing layers of me. I’m
fighting to be free and
I need you to trust me, to
remember that these words
live forever in my soul. I’m
Picture; you can buy the color on fabric land
Inspiration; times are hard, but somehow God is my strength.
i’m conflicted, like
how can we truly know
the right path?
Maybe one day these words
I breathe will be the
wrecking ball that
breaks down the walls I’ve
molded like sand castles
around my heart
Picture; British Council music
To the dreamers; ordinary people
paying the price, making no excuses
To the fighters who find a balance
taming their minds, taking risks
To these broken souls that have
no where else to go but up
Inspiration; To the Dreamers – for King and Country
Each one of us is a
Thread of fine spider silk
As rare as it gets.
She needs to see that she’s worth
More than a million galaxies, that
Her smile is what
Keeps the earth spinning
On its rosewood wheel
I realize that you can’t
just run away when
shit gets hard. like
it’s all day, everyday
until the roads end. it’s
the phases and somehow,
we wind up okay.
Inspiration; Run Away – The Afters
So I’m talking with my friends and mid conversation, it hit me like BOOM!!! “You’ll turn 25 this year, half way down the road to becoming a 30 year old woman.” Like yoooo
Well, this is just a post to say thank you for your support. Life is what we make of it!!!
PS; my favorite colors black, what’s yours?
it’s hard. i’m tired
sick of pretending like
i’m strong enough to ride this wave.
some nights i cry more than once; doubts
rocking me to sleep like the
sound of troubled waters. to hang
on to a gleam of hope is
not for the weak…
i won’t give up…his joy
will be my strength
Inspiration; No one can steal our joy – Tenth Avenue North
Saddled by a life that’s tick tocking away
I let him rest his heavy head on my shoulders frail.
We’re the cast aways, the
bitter scums of an existence riddled with
fantasies of suffering and gold.
His name is John and mine Meredith, and
with hands folded like hooks, we
hang on to the noose, ripping it apart
we untie the line as we skip…and
skip…in merriment as
we dare fate to deal its next card.