Like a butterfly
wings laden with rain
I’ve forgotten how to fly
My paper heart
no longer sings
the tune of the hopeful
My skin gossamer
a study in contradictions
longs for touch but fears the pain of fingertips
The siren song of eternal sleep
tries to seduce my broken body
but my autonomic nervous system
refuses to heed the call
(pump, breathe, digest)
an endless cycle which bores me
“Is this all there is?”
I scream into the void
Still histrionic, still a bookwhore; just faking competence because of my kid.
i've choked on my words for far too long
It's not the length of life, but the depth.
This is my mind, it’s not supposed to make sense.
Where Sarcasm Gets Drunk and Lets Its Hair Down
Shining the light of truth on delusion
Researching, investigating, and writing about the paranormal.
You either get it... or you don't.
Inky blackness, a yawning void ~
"Eye Fly High"
A weekly series edited by Jena Schwartz
Read. Ingest the words. Like little blue pills, they will affect you.
the stories behind the pictures, and vice versa
Just my thoughts for all to behold
🍃 Fully Living The Unfinished Things Of Life Through Writings. 🍃
A baking and dessert blog.
Writer, Tarot Reader, Designer
a little bit of this and a little bit of that
Seeking Beauty Beyond the Scars
The home of Emma O'Brien
The musings of a scorpion who would have been an eagle
I blog now. I know, I can't believe it either.
Paul Johnson's comedy blog: I didn't get into comedy to be rich or famous. All I've ever wanted was to be loved...by somebody rich and famous.
Fat Bottom Girl Said What 
😪