The landscape searches
for our love;
blue petals
and violet eyes,
deep worries
and faceless cries-
we fall as we wake
and we swim in the river
of truth and need,
of despair and greed;
want is powerful until it fades,
then the flowers wilt and the people tilt.
I am not a tragic ending or a storm below the stirring Earth, I am not your empty vessel nor am I a glass of dirt. I have never been full...
Belonging is difficult and sometimes a battle on a field littered with bones. Those of us who never got a say in this destiny lay...
Fragments of myself fell off until I had lost them all, I had lost the soul until I was nothing but a performing shell- I had forgotten...
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