Little girls should have big dreams. Always. Because all women are made up of little girls guiding them along the path they always wanted to walk on. ⁃ Notes for my daughter
Tag: poetrycommunity
The Butterfly
Honey, you are like the butterfly Air, light and grace Hold your spirit high and free Your color runs if you are held
If you see
If you notice the eyes seeking the flowers, the sun, the night sky If you notice the constant longing for fresh air If you see the way I get lost in nature, in stories and in everything else that carries me away If you see through me to me, with all my intricacies You see […]
7.6.20
There’s a feeling I have been trying to place for some time. Something about loss, something about things being irreversible, something about grasping at empty feelings. I can’t trace it. It feels like I run and run and run at it but I can’t hold it, and I cannot understand it. It’s something to do […]
NTS 3.6.20
And when you love me, I hope you love me for the chaos of my mind and not just the canvas of my face.
Beacons
Everything seems well and good. Until you remember, you have always held your body as a beacon heralding harm And darkness resides in corners you don’t know, waiting to creep up into your heart And your heart, it’s an iron walled cage with a gentle, sensitive soul. It hurts and it hurts so it twines […]
#NTS 17.4.20
Context: My brain’s been doing some heavyweight thinking lately and this stream of thought entered my mind. I remember a particular session with my therapist – we had discussed how some of the beliefs I had about myself would take time to go because they had been sedimenting for years. I had spent the past […]
People
People pass like time Like running water Like drafts of wind on a summer night Like a wisps of smoke trailing heavenward And all that’s left in their wake is the fragrance of their presence A distant memory of their touch On your life People pass like time Like running water Like drafts of wind […]
Bell JAr
Like a butterfly A medley of colors A delicate twine of body and spirit A gossamer dream, soft and dusty Beneath the sky of a bell jar Inspired by Sylvia Plath’s Bell Jar
Little Girl
Little girl, little girl, little girl, you have cleansed your soul on the altars of love, faith, duty and despair. Why is your soul still empty?
