Aren’t you just the cutest little fear filled spook dressed in my favorite reds and porcelain milk for a softer, silky shell, a breath or two out of winter’s den. You feel free to keep haunting, nonetheless.
Conversations with stars when the grey winter clouds hide awhile ❤
Full of doubt
Waiting with out.
The tears comfort themselves now
Because I’m always such a fool
For how words form
In that beautiful mouth.
I’m sodden now with
All the things you can’t with.
Even showers neglect to clean me
Before dusk falls on my thoughts.
My heart sings believe
My smart mind knows better
No matter how much your touch
Brings life back to my shatteredness.
Why rolling heavy losses up mountain tops,
As I wait for years of time to finally catch up.
Even I was unaware the torture
Would eventually turn on itself.
Nothing left of this field of sweet
smells, black top, and hopeless tires rolling as intended wanting to miss
the boulder set to meet me at sunset with only a man running the
opposite direction instead of
towards the helplessly lost.
Brace for impact.
tired and dirty ❤️
Was hoping I would want to write more when I arrived but it seems as though I’m still just caught in the ocean of some strange tide.
However, happy I did not surprise anyone because really that was a ghost from a former life I should not have ever wasted a thought on. I think I’ve always known I had no loyalty to seek there. Being so busy now, it’s just exhausting expelling my energy on mummified peach seeds that once brought comfort. Plus, I’ve learned a lot about love since then. I want the kind, that just fits. If it’ll have me eventually that is.
Suppose that’s growth or me seeking more fun in my life? Who knows?
I’m gunning for more unsolicited adventures in my life, what a riot just little pit stops were even
Road trip travel
And two best friend sets
Working out the details
Seeing the marcabe things
History will eventually wash away
And enjoying each other’s company.
Because sometimes you have to
Let the minutes pass
And surround oneself
With natures wondrous bounty.
An unexpected visit to a past that died when I was 20. The big city and sweet treats to eat. Whew I hope I pack enough coffee, ghost grave yards, beautiful mountains, wide open oceans and hopefully the rebirth of us 3.🦋
I’m hoping to remember to document things to take you all along with me
Forgive me, this is now months old. I felt cleaning drafts was due before years end. Interesting topic, as I, myself date older men. But there’s a line somewhere in 2016, no? Here’s to thinking one grew out of his teens just because the years passed and someone that would never ❤
Start tyrate after a 6 hour drive and too much time to think with my beautiful daughter next to me:
What sort of man incites such malice with in a kind heart like mine? One that thinks it’s funny to hit on my 15 year old daughter. One, that expects me to buy him unending beers. One, that leaves me in front of a busy hotel to meet a gaggle of men asking me why I’m an irish girl in part of town I don’t belong in, alone outside. The sort, that sits in a car silently, phone in hand, as I stave off a 6’3′ man accosting me in a parking lot I also didn’t belong in that all the while pretends he loves me. But mostly, a 40 yo man wanting a child. I will always protect before I partake in anything selfish. If two 15 year olds had children, You’re practically old enough to be her grandfather. Get it now?
So, enjoy the reality. The true one, not some I’m misunderstood delusion. I wonder if there is a public list for this man’s kind. Stop coming here as well. You are also not welcome to steal my writing for your own inspiration either.
In the meantime, perhaps a decent girl proving her point can be finished with a disappointment beyond imagination. Thanks for the momentary loss of faith in humanity. Good thing, I know how to make it, share it, give it, instead of take it.
This years best season,
Ending on such sour notes,
Giving way to good harvest,
With a lesson-remote.
Curled lying lips corrupt,
Never makes for loving so much.
Faded memory still passing like thinning fog
Only at the bottom of mountain tops on Tuesdays-
Leaving room for another’s endless hope I collect
Like the sun’s rays beaming trust.
So sorry for that luck,
I’m bundling up:
Piled on the porch untouched.
And I am returning to sender,
A forked tongue and angled tail benders.
All the stagnant,
Three soul mates a year sort of romantic love.
Along with the hateful glances of a barely mortal man’s drunken red anger
Based somewhere in the what I have’s-
What you should entail,
And the what happened not’s.
I leave it world’s away
Trying to control so much while-
Fabricating nebulous notions
for ornamental pickles.
Dangling for the sake of art’s sake.
Emotional courtship only,
Floating the bragard’s specter boat-
Like it’s a hold you up crutch keeping hope afloat.
So it’s my serendipitous road from here on out,
To the golden ocher leaves of real adoration
And undying crimson devotional lust-
Hidden In his soft kiss and rough handed soul
Plucking strings like Santana,
Healing the troves of
And just his burning blue eyes,
Making diamonds out of my scars,
Between the planks on ocean pier moonlit walks.
Happy Holidays to you and yours first off. May it not be the cluster chaos of mine and instead resplendently balmy and curative. 🙂
So moving along to my usual 😉
The morning fog
Thick above the ponds
Makes me feel alive again
And the city looks like beautiful hope
Despite the many still eating their own kind
I wonder some days what I’ve accomplished finally
To gain such a genuine divinity behind my smile.
I wonder too If perhaps I merely lost my mind.
I like to think per contra though-
I see the beauty in the tragedy now
My demons tamed,
My fears rearranged,
My pieces recollected
So that I may finally love with all of me for the first time.
Brightly like a meteor’s dying shine.
Limits be damned to man’s overthinking mind.
“Go outside and enjoy the greatest show in the universe — which is, of course, the universe itself.” – Rogier van der Heide
I’m out of my own words, but they are around ❤
Off to answer my own call, two year old me and I could use a play date 😉
Rage against the dying light friends. The world’s going to need us. They always do.
Food for thought after reading that 90% of all coupled active Twitter users are cheaters. Active =>2 hours monthly. Proven fact. Didn’t realize it’s the free Ashley Madison of the internet. Suppose it’s definitely not my tribe there and I want no part of it again.
Sigh the current state of romance and other things that make me think of moving to Montana and having food airlifted in. Training eagles and wolves sounds like a better life than “trending” lies.