Stronger than knives or strokes and Beleaguered, lonesome old oaks, Together again, those wings, the trees, Gasping at them as I forgot to sing. Spanning years’ dimly stated demands Its our last night in the Neverland.
The pain in your veins, heat aghast, you faint.
The hole swallows her body and soul.
Why in the universe do we know something exists at all,
If we pretend to see, to know, bite a fruit and fall.
Algorithmic syncopated circus acts,
And drums tight as a father’s facts.
A well-positioned boy who smokes out a window,
Discarding his amusement for a hummingbird.
His green sharkskin suit, brightly alert –
Dusted by sunshine, weakened with night.
Heartbeats, just over a wing he spots you.
In the span of a wink,
He’s gone from the ledge.
We all fall down. The ground grows smaller, As I pass the Earth, Becoming her daughter. Funny to stand today, Eclipsing the sun. My books marked still, On page one.
Each life writing a page.
For a bound legacy,
Marked by birth and death.
And of our own self images, they’re not influenced by much positive representations. Especially those of us at stage IV. The stage no one wants to know much about at all. We, the misfits, don’t measure up to Santa’s ultra high standards, and become the toys left behind on Christmas Eve. Weepy-eyed, we stand shivering from the cold, waving goodbye to the tail end of a sleigh, to Santa Clause’s fat ass, and reindeer tail lights.
There is no greater sorrow than to recall the misery in time we were happy - Dante A belligerent handshake, a reluctantly shared cab. "Do you know where to drop me off?" Whispering heavily, unwrapping secrets, […]
Vintage clothing and accessories look unique and provide great conversation starters. And now you can also tell all those complimenting your gorgeous, well fitted outfit the facts about today’s new “fast fashion,” akin to fast food, and the waste of the fashion industry since the second world war, especially in the United States. Fashion is the third largest producer of waste of all industries in 2017.
Many of us experience isolation and walk alone in our cancer journeys. Regardless of the stage or type it's difficult and frightening, causing emotional strain and stressing the infrastructure of even our strongest relationships. My […]
"Function, sweetheart."A line in code,Bogart, feeling the burnt calamity,The sweat of cities, And the hearts all pretty. Served with new orders. Flinching dramatically yet faintly,She chortled and crossed.He barely escaped a double, a body.All the […]