from my heart to yours…
Hobbes, I wish That when we tried I’d been less broken And more alive. - That I’d been stronger And not that reed Bent and bruised Unsure of its own strength Or ability To grow straight and tall. - I wish that fate hadn’t scooped you up And dropped you on another continent Across the …
Pain or no pain, Happily ever after, or happily never after, We only have today to love or not to love.
Would that I were glass. Tall slender cylinder containing water. Life-giving water. I would know the touch of your hand. I would know your lips on me, Repeatedly. I would bear the honor Of pouring into you That thing that soothes your tongue, Refreshes senses, Nourishes body. If. I were a glass. Would that I …
The tiny apparatus beneath my tongue, The one that forms a phrase, and gives me strength to speak it, Disappeared whenever I saw him. Words - once friends, companions, Would flee. His face, so striking, It rendered me speechless. His beauty - erased every eloquent phrase From my memory. And it wasn't like he was …
And he won't go away He's under my skin A part of my system That will not give in. It will not surrender The memory of touch The brightness of smile That I loved so much. I'd hoped it'd be natural A slow dissipation Like water from pavement An evaporation. Instead I'm possessed With faithful …
When I was young, maybe 18, I stood on top of a hill in Manchester, MI, and watched a summer storm come in. I stood in the rain and wind until my aunt made me come into the house for threat of lightning. It was thrilling and scary. I felt so small And so ALIVE. …
Story. I remember one of the lessons I learned about the human heart. I remember when I learned that love didn't obey rules and regulations. One form of love, anyway. We met and it was instantaneous. The draw, the attraction, the connection. Neither of us were models of perfection when it came to the human …
I knew him long ago, and upon seeing him again after the passage of time, I saw him as he was, without filters - without the preconceived notions that I'd developed during the abusive childhood and teen-aged seasons of my life. I loved him as half-woman, half-child, barely grown-up, When men were typically mistrusted. And …
As I rested, My head on my pillow, Love coursed through my heart. It must be contained In my blood, For as the heart does its job, The blood passes through And its passenger, Love, Sings its song So softly Yet so soulfully, That it resonated inside of me. And my heart reverberated With every …
When I feel impatient, I picture a person in the middle of a corn field with the stalks half-grown, Only waist high, And the person is Powerless, pouty, and selfish. They are petulantly commanding stalks to grow, To give ears of corn. Because they want corn-on-the-cob, and they want it now. The scenario is ugly. …
...Just Thoughts... 