Spit it out
Spit it out, spew it forth
I could hear my heart beat beating I could hear everyone’s heart~ .I could hear the human noise we made as we sat there waiting not one of us moving not even when the room went dark~
Muse where art thou my beloved muse
Such cruelty to leave me dry and brittle lacking all creativity
Daily you fed me inspiration
From the fountain of your mystique, your enigmatic presence prevails
Calls to my soul write for this night for each day you grow old
Celebrate your magnificent influence in my life
Take solace in the knowledge of your completing my life
You were the sweetest of lovers
The spirit of truth
My love, my dear my fountain of youth~
Muse you may go if you must
Another muse will come along shortly in this you can trust~
Not for reproduction~
It’s hard when I don’t have the beauty around me, even more so to have such, yet unappreciated~
This soul is half wilted like flowers sent two weeks ago, in a vase of greenish moldy water… Against my soul I thrive and only make life harder~
There is a fight within that is slowly fading…. The light is dim, glib, hallow
This life is a bitter pill and often insipid and hard to swallow~
These expressions, these words, I write… outside, inside and deep within.. I’m trying to win, but seemingly losing this fight~
But a subtle grace around me waits … Like angels whisper deep embrace to remind that life is not a race… And often times these troubles face……..with weakness…. Will slowly build my strength…and not to fight a dirty fight, not go to any length to win~
But allow this circumstance to yield the beauty still yet but revealed..
Whispers loudly grow a voice, to always remember there is a choice~
Gallantly stand straight and tall, that in this life you’re gonna fall, but that’s not all… That fall……no you see, ahead there awaits a victory.
~Death is inevitable, love immesurable, hate consuming, want never ending~NJM~
~Prayers left unanswered does not mean “no” sometimes unanswered prayers means to go on with the show~
To percieve the beauty inside and around me.
To want to grow old, and stop wanting to die young, I romance death often. It’s a control thing. I’m to young to be old, and to old to be young, hinged between these two areas cause extreme conflict within an eternal teen.
To realize it’s ok. I’m ok. As screwed up as my life was, is, and could be, it’s ok. This ties into the death wish thingy.
To attain the true love outside of myself through another person, a kindred, soul mate, partner in crime, someone to kill time with.
Keep God in the center, and let God walk with me around the corners and edges~