Archive for March, 2019


Write it out…

Let it flow…

That’s right isn’t it? Let it flow… let it pour… let it go…

There are so many words trapped inside. So many emotions. So many feelings. Can I start at the beginning? I don’t even know where that is…

I’m numb. But no. I’m not. The atmosphere is emotionally charged. I feel it in my skin. The rumbles of a storm in every breath I take. …calm down, count to ten, keep breathing… I don’t want to calm. I don’t want calm. I want storms and ripped and wretched and bare…

And I smile… but the smile never hits my eyes. It doesn’t light me. It’s false. As false as the mask I wear. I’m another bad actor in some awful forgotten play.

…let the words out…

Find a song to open this damn and let the emotions into the words.

Song choice. Florence and the Machine. What the water gave me.

~…Strength…~

Old tree

blackened by time,

Shaped by the wind

as it passes down the line,

Gnarled branches

barren and bare,

Living and breathing

but barely there,

The rain it falls

darkest storm,

Rip the sky in two

tree stands forlorn,

Lightening hits the ground

scorched earth wet,

Tree stands alone

nothing happens and yet,

It’s just a tree

no beauty or grace,

So very alone

in this desolate place,

Wind howls louder

higher higher,

Lightening tears across the sky

brilliance of white fire,

Old tree braces

against the wind stands so still,

Steadfast and alone

strength and iron will…

The words they don’t make sense. There’s no power. No anguish. No desolation, turmoil, wretchedness. No depth. It’s all wrong and not enough. I’ve built these walls so high the emotion, the depth is struggling to get out. It’s drowning in an endless ocean of words. I can’t find the lever to release it all in this symphony of sounds. It’s to dark. So dark. I can’t swim.

…calm down, count to ten, keep breathing… I don’t want to calm. I don’t want calm. I want storms and ripped and wretched and bare…

I want feeling.

Depth…

I want to be your favourite seat

all comfy soft and warm,

I want to be your favourite shirt

wouldn’t care if I got torn,

I want to be your pillow

where you rest your weary head,

Your blanket soft and warm

to snuggle you in bed,

I want to be your cigarette

against those gorgeous lips,

Or let me be your belt

wrapped around your hips,

I want to be those simple things

that you use throughout the day,

Those insignificant normal things

you don’t notice as you go about your way,

I want to be every little thing

that to your face a smile bring,

I want to be your happiness I love you

so much my King…x.

.x.

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