Is it okay that I started so late?
“Dance for me.” I whisper to the words entrenched in the blades of my being. When they listen, they dance diligently at every turn. Going at a h y p n o t i z i n g speed until they d r o p.
It seems like all things have finally left me. I mean to include words too – my most forgiving savior. I am convinced that it is part of the final stage of this long odyssey I’ve en-trailed on for almost twenty-two years. Heavy, hot flashes of headaches and turbulent washes of emotion fill my days. […]
Everything is so far away — a tonic away.
Trauma makes abrasions, lines and circles that exquisitely permeate and colour the lens of our eyes; the blood of our mind. Poison’d in entrapment.
I am neither here nor there, my mind, set on tempests. While the heart, plainly beats. flowing words–hold me close; I am sanguine. Brimming with the rich redness of life, repose, and everything in-between. With nothing behind, I cry and cry in sweetness: bound to no thing other than me.
Skin: There are miles to me. Eyes: A deep onyx. Tresses of Indian ink hair locks hang free on my petite frame. Is this beauty? The transient and evolving features that define me? Can you see past the flesh that envelopes me: Hear the lofty and intricate thoughts of my mind, The exorbitant way I […]