Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Beautiful Predator

Staring into the glossy surface of the water, she lets the stillness flow through her as she kneels by the shimmering lake.

 

A slow inhale and even slower exhale as her body’s tension drains. Her feet and legs molding to the earth beneath her as they conform to her body. Earth and woman made for each other.

 
The sun shines exquisitely over her, making the volcanic veins just beneath her surface shimmer and dance. Her fingers sink into the shore at her sides as her head falls back into shadow with a piercing scream.

 
Birds scatter in the trees, small animals run a little faster, but the larger animals recognize their own. A predator in soft skin, with a shrill battle cry, one who is fire itself. They slink slowly away from it even as they envy it.

 
The water ripples outward at the sound, moved beyond measure to its depths at this creature above it. It can feel the pull at the shore line, the power in her hands, the call of her voice.

 
Drops of her blood meet the water as they fall from her nose and ears, but still her cry rings out. At the scent of her blood the larger animals scatter even further.

 
Knowing she is not only capable of immense love and kindness this predator in soft skin. But that she will set fire to the earth around her, blazing her own path, salting it after she is done.

 
Burning tainted bridges without hesitation and building steel in their place from her very own spine. Her cry fades away and the sound of silence reigns as the dirt on her hands mixes with the blood on her face.

 
She walks into the blazing sun, not caring of the eyes that watch, what is the uncaring weight of few when she is the hope and joy of many?

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Life’s Battles

Girls start out soft and sweet they say, quiet and delicate. But what if they came into the world as they meant to go on?

Screaming at the top of their lungs. Ready for any battle that may come their way. For the battles will come. And some part of them, even at birth knows this.

Boys start out stoic and happy they say, extroverted and sturdy. But what if they came into the world as they meant to go on?

Screaming at the top of their lungs. Ready for any battle that may come their way. For the battles will come. And some part of them, even at birth knows this.

What if we all started out as we meant to go on? Not in a box or as an idea. But just as ourselves. Screaming each day at the top of our lungs.

Our hearts filled with the madness and pain of living. But also, the joyfulness and laughter of life. We cannot fully experience one without the other.

For in madness and pain we find what truly brings us joy and laughter at our darkest moments. And if not for the joy and laughter we wouldn’t know what caused the madness and pain in us.

Life is a balance that only you can find for yourself. Start out as you mean to go on. Not in a mask or a cage of others perception. But screaming at the top of your lungs, in laughter, in madness, in joyfulness and pain.

Posted in Photography, Poetry, Uncategorized

Around the Edges

You could see it, around the edges I mean. 

The never-ending grief. 

The brokenness that couldn’t be repaired.

The heartache that just never went away. 

Sometimes an odd look would cross over their face. 

 

Totally blank, but somehow it made you uncomfortable just seeing it. The glazed eyes, the tight mouth, the stress lines more pronounced. You had to wonder at how deep it went. 

 

Then like the sun from behind a cloud they were back. Maybe you only imagined it after all. Look at how happy they appeared. It puzzled you because you didn’t know what caused it. 

 

Ah! There it was at the eyes again. Just a slip, a small dip in their smile and an untrue pitch to their laugh. No, it wasn’t your imagination. Oh, but darling, if only they knew. The darkness was inside of you too.

Posted in Photography, Poetry

Silly Universes in People

Falling slowly apart so you wouldn’t notice. Then all at once, like a tsunami, it rolled over me. The cracks in my foundation grew. I fell apart at the seams.

Silly that, isn’t it? How can a person fall apart at the seams? What sews them together to begin with? Is it love? Their history? Their dreams? Their regrets?

Maybe it’s everything rolled into one brilliant, blinding universe inside someone. So that when I was done falling apart, when my foundation cracked and the tsunami rolled over me.

I fractured at the seams of whatever had deigned to hold me together this long. Rising up from my feet, rolling under my skin, until the moon, stars and black holes of my universe burst through.

Settling on my skin like dust. That I slowly inhale as I pull the seams of myself back together each time. Now it twinkles on my skin, this fine shimmer against the darkness. The cracks filled with molten lava.

Silly that, isn’t it? To think of a person as if they had a universe inside of them? One made up of love, history, dreams and regrets. That spills over every time they come apart at the seams. Spilling onto each those around them. Tying us all together, piece by piece.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Illogical Logic

Does a moat surrounding the castle make it any less decimated from the attacks you launched?

Does a lock on the gate with a sleeping guard make it any more difficult for you to climb the walls?
Does a security system with a code everybody knows how to break make it any more secure than it was before?
Does a battlefield littered with remains of those who fought look any different than the inside of a broken mind?
Does the idea of mental health as a joke, tall tale, or lie make you more comfortable with the words and actions that spew forth from such an ignorant heart?
No.
No.
No.
No.
Yes…