Wet, cool mist of life.

Standing alone on a sandy shore,
Cold water lapping at my toes,
Sinking, slowly,
Rough grains tickling,
Sun beating me down,
Cool, damp mist
Sweeping in,
Licking my skin,
Engulfing me,
And yet some how,
It frees me.
Thick, wet cloud hovering around me,
A barrier
Between me and the world.

Do not pause and listen to your thoughts.

If I paused in time
and listened to the
Thoughts that run
Wildly in my mind,
I would get no where.
I would still be rooted
to that spot.
Wings tattered
And tears stemmed.
I would be no one,
And then
What? Broken, damaged,
And glued to the spot.
If I listened to my thoughts,
I would be no one.
Some say,
I am brave,
I act on impulse,
Consider the consequences
After, and stand tall against my crimes,
I always do fine.
But I am brave? If fear moves
Me forward,
If pushing me into that
Dark, cold corner
Releases a wild animal
Does that make me brave,
Or am a slave
To my inabilty to say
To stay
To lay.
I am everything
And more
because I refuse
To stay behind
Locked doors.

I wake to sun spilling across me, and I am in love.

I wake up full of thought,
Having not found,
in my dreams
the love that I sought.

I wake up filled with hope
That a new day
Will change my world
and shorten the rope.

I wake up unaware,
For a split second,
Then it hits, and I
remember, life isn’t fair.

I wake up in love,
with myself and everything
Around me, it carries me
through the rough.

He hides in the shadow holding his tail.

He hides in the shadows
that the sun can not reach,whispering sinful thoughts,
a new way he does teach.
Telling me of a life,
created through autonomy,
Where I can be free
Make choices from my heart,And play my very own part.
He hides in the darkness,
Calling me in,
Asking me why,
I choose not to sin.
It’s not for a god,
I whisper to him,
or a man of the cloth,
or a preacher that believes,
He has the answers
To world peace.
I don’t live by the rules,
I haven’t a clue.
I live for my soul,
it’s my ultimate goal,
To walk with the devil,
and show him a life,
Filled not with strife,
But the freedom to choose,
Win or lose,
To love and to lust,
and follow the must,
to bare my spirit
And still love me,
every bit.