Frost lies heavy on the ground
sparkling like diamonds
jewels bestowed upon me by Jack Frost
he’s the only man who comes to visit
besides Father Time
Always rough around the edges
hardened by life
still seeking asylum in strong arms
where she can be soft
she allows him in
only to be burned again
wondering what she did wrong
always feeling like she’s paying the piper
for unknown tunes
she doesn’t remember dancing to
her heart now buried so deep
no sunlight will reach it
to entice even a bud of love
like I want to be
need to be
like it’s January 1942
and we don’t know
if we’ll ever have another kiss
my Victory Red lipstick
staining your lips
the wool of your uniform
scratching my powdered cheek
declarations of love
promises of letters
hanging in the cold air
as you board the train
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
FOR DISCERNING READERS
🍃 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.