Art Speaks

Art speaks silently to creator and spectator. Though its words to each diverge. Painted, written, and sung. Each brush stroke a story. Each word a song Each song an awakening Music, colors pricking the depths of our being. Imagery, whispering what our souls long to hear. Melodies that expose reclusive remains Reminding us of lost

Dwindle

Emptiness wraps its arms around me again. Like tendrils slowly tightening their grasp. I remember this feeling all too well. The child inside me, too weak to struggle, buried beneath burdens now. The woman I am, withers in slow motion. Indifference seeps in. I go numb. You ask me what is wrong, and all I

No Justice

Nothing is sacred to the devil. My heart violently writhing in my chest Reminds me of that daily. Fifteen years may as well have been two days. The clock ticks towards an inevitable end. Whispering all the promises you once made to me, in her ear. Are you lying to her too? Another home wrecking

Words

Before the words were said Before the feeling faded Before the first touch The first dance The first kiss The first born My hand was on the door I let the devil win the game Thinking it was all in my head but the battle had been fought and lost in a single breath The

Waiting

It’s the waiting.It’ll get you every time.Waiting for the right personWaiting for changeWaiting for the test resultsWaiting for forgivenessFor the other shoe to dropThe answerThe phone callThe right timeThe wound to healThe next stepThe endIt’s the waiting.It’ll get you, every fucking time. -Clary

Suffocation

What is this? I’m happy. Right? Then why do I feel so hindered? Why does it feel less like a choice, And more like chains? Are these my true feelings or Is the devil trying to get the upper hand? I just need some time away. I think. Just some time that isn’t full of

Take A Breath

I no longer question the existence of God. I’ve passed that point in my life. I know damn well I was created, and though I often forget, I know what I was meant to do. Still, I find myself struggling through the muck of life. I know it was never meant to be easy, but

Christmas Reminder!

Throwback post! Merry Christmas!

Silent Alterations

Can you feel it? All around. Perpetual change. No one can escape it. The silent alterations. Bending us gradually so we don’t notice. Swept up in the “to do” lists of the day. Most don’t feel it. We capture it. The pictures you hang on your walls… artifacts in museums we call homes. God and

2020

Searching for peace in all this unrest Another hurtle for 2020 and a split between righteous and wicked. Don’t ask me which is which as both sides hold heaven and hell. If every person thinks they are right how can you get them to see reason? It use to be that facts and science stood

Acquiesce

The leaves here have begun to fall. There’s a coolness in the breeze signaling change is on its way. I can only hope it’s for the better. The sinking feeling comes back to haunt me daily. I keep the rising screams at bay with work, and school, and making dinner. But I feel the heaviness

Against the Grain

There’s shame in my resentment. It burrows its way back into my heart and mind, if I let it. WHEN I let it. Like tendrils they pierce the flesh of every thought as every negative memory of you plays on repeat in my head. The warnings were there all along. Love shouldn’t be a constant

Silent Pain

i miss my dad.

More Time

Never enough time. Being the youngest of four I always thought I was the furthest from all the changes that come with age. I calculated my youth by all the milestones I had yet to reach. Now I find myself on the precipice of something new. Another change I don’t look forward to. A slower

What of Me?

What of me when newness fades?When you have since abandoned longing for my lips. The shape of my disposition no longer quenching your desires. What of me when time and toil have stolen my days?When these arms lose the worth of their breadth. Ravaged by ailments and grief of this life. What of me when

Frayed Edges

Here I go again. Omitting truth for peace. Afraid to crush your fragile sentimentality. Constantly teetering on the scale of our relationship. This time I won’t falter, No matter the cost. This time I will speak my mind, Without concern for your delicate heart. The one I fight to understand as I search for my

Losing My Religion

An entire life spent trying to be what everyone expected. Kneel, stand, the sign of the cross, Hail Mary & Our Father. Confess your sins to the envious pedophile. No worries, the confessional has a screen. Not to mention peddling God door to door. A salesman without answers. No Christmas, no Easter, no makeup, no

Prick

Thank you for making it easy. Now I can move on. Much obliged you haven’t written, or responded to my calls. I’m grateful you ignore me, And don’t want me by your side. At times my thoughts drift back to you I’m not going to lie. I lose myself in what would have beens, What

Broken Seashells

The crisp breeze blew as time erased another sunset from the sky. The light of the  first star pricked a hole in the darkness and the moon set up, dismissing the pale blue of the day. I found myself staring up, feeling insignificant,  as memories of you began to wash in like broken seashells on

Soliloquy

The smell of fresh rolls wafted through the dining area. I sat at the bar waiting for my order. A man sat three stools down. I caught intermittent mumbles about death, the end of the world, and some Bible verses. I wonder if he knows something I don’t? If he hears the echo of voices

Your Touch

You didn’t touch me again today. Should I be worried? Is it happening again? My thoughts go dark fast. Has my adventurous nature become mundane? Perhaps. But,There will be a time when you’ll realize what you have. Hopefully, Before I stop missing the feel of your hands on my skin. Before the thought of your

We Rise

No worries, We’ll be okay, whatever may come. Empires have risen and fallen Hellfire, rain, famine, locust, pandemic and all. We’ll be okay. We’ll rise from the rubble, rebuild what was lost. Waters recede, and the sun shines again We’ll rise from the ash, as spring gifts us her bloom. Crops are resown, industries recover

Lullaby

Help me find sleep tonight. Bring quiet to this mind. My body has grown weary, of the hardships in my life. Silence all stray thoughts. Bring rest to my eyes. Let darkness take me in her arms, and sing her lullaby. Put away the triumphs and failures of the day. Tuck me in so tightly

Mistaken Path

I am here but I am gone, Waiting for new time to dawn. One without so many cares, One with less burdens to bear. I am here but I am not, A memory of what I was taught. Like a faded withered tree, Only a figment of what use to be. Will I grow to

Nostalgia

I take my place as part of a final generation that grew up when Saturday morning cartoons were still a thing, and Sundays were still held sacred. Before internet and cell phones trapped us in zombie mode. Saying so makes me feel ancient. It’s a strange thing when change comes so quickly. A quarter of

Mayflies

I use to think when people died young it was because there was so much sadness in their hearts they just could’t keep it from breaking. I would have kept on believing this had I not lost my daddy so young, or experienced the agony of losing two unborn children, only to find I still

Oh the Shit You’ll Go Through!

A short take on Dr. Suess for Adults!

Sanctimonious

The words rolled off her tongue so eloquently. I, even believed her bullshit. She wore that infectious smile and feigned excitement when she met someone new. Inviting you to rub elbows with the “elites,” like that is where you belonged. Fooled so many, including myself, with her slippery manipulations. If she said you were enough,

You

I can’t understand it. I can’t comprehend. How a love so deep spawned so quickly from friends. Just a small spark, ignites a fire; That makes you think up all these dreams and desires. It wraps you in tightly, without regard Of whom you’re attached to, no matter how far. It tells you that love

We Are The Music

A homage to T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets