I’ve discovered in the search for who I am that I’m not just one thing. You see… I kept making the mistake of trying to define myself. I am not JUST anything. I am all the different colors between and including black and white. I am a prism reflecting myself into the world. I…
Nightfall crawls restless Inside invisible veins Caressing my shoulders With shadowy hands Kissing my lips, my body Feeding my hungry aches Anxious for its presence I lie still under its weight Miles from daybreak Praying that night Will absorb my lust And bury me Underneath fields of light
She fell from hands she couldn’t see She was being fed to monsters Left for… Not quite dead because Well… What’s the fun in that? As demons swarmed around her Leaving trails of venom Mixed with blood upon her soul She concentrated on the pain As their poison fangs sunk deep Aware that the initial…
I pretend not to notice or care. That’s just life. It happens. I see you reading, messaging, answering, flirting, complimenting, spending time elsewhere and giving all your attention away. I sit in the corner picking at my food wondering if you would notice if I stood to leave. I watch as your eyes find pleasure…
Tell me your secrets No need to lie I will eat them up And make them mine Crawl into my arms And make a home I’ll hold you tight And keep you warm Give me your tears I’ll collect them in a jar Shaped like my heart So you can face each end With a…
Please welcome today’s #BeReal guest, Fat Bottom Girl. The load of shame I carry on a daily basis weighs me down. I wish I could tell you when I picked up this particular baggage, but I cannot. I’ve carried it so long, that it’s become a part of me; melded into my marrow. My shame…
Please welcome my #BeReal guest today, Simon Overy So then, let me begin by thanking Hasty for giving me this opportunity to entertain (he said hopefully) her many readers and in doing so offer a big thank you to you readers out there in the blogosphere for taking time out to, you know, read…
My #BeReal guest today is Ned Hickson. As a humor columnist, I get paid to be a truth-stretcher. An embellisher. A chronicler of life blown out of proportion. And I get to do it without living in Washington D.C. It’s a skill my mother will tell you I began honing at a young age…
Just one word With that glance Sound escapes Intense yearning Muffled by lips… Searching for Meaning for Trusting for Loving for Living for The one You’d die for
I can’t feel my words I draw the dots, spots Meticulously one by one And I’m connecting them Constellations of emotion Designs for all to see But I don’t recognize The pictures I’ve drawn Meaningless ramblings Inside my brain, jumbled Upon the starry sky And I sit and wonder If they’ll ever amount Accumulate…
