If I were a flower my petals would furl in toward my center. They’d drink, drunkenly from my own nectar. Blanket me momentarily in abounding love, cocoon me from this world…
… If I were flower. But Alas I am a weed, a wild flower growing in the breeze between the cracks. Adversity is my nectar. The whirring tides of stars are my blanket, they cocoon me from this world.
But if for just a moment I was a flower My petals soft against my skin, furled into a ball of fragrant chaos, sipping happily on my own sweet nectar readying myself to bloom. What a truly beautiful cocooned existence that would be.
If I gather up the cracked pieces of timeless porcelain, the shattered grains of soul, the shards of spirit, the chipped remains of identity… With my heart in pieces; perhaps you could help me tidy them into neat piles of rationality, dust away the insanity. Fill the voids with self believe, polishing them with self confidence long lost in the devils hour.
The body, when perfectly whole Without cut, scar or gaping hole Is a vessel of beautiful perfection Radiating aura without detection of cast of entities from darker sense…
Each cut, scar, hole leaves open essence protection fails as they seep in heavy thoughts they always bring feeding on energy, power drives on reality is rewritten, they become strong.
To cleanse, to hide, to meditate is never quite enough to fight for holes in auras outer shield are the reason for the magnetic field They deceive, come in many guise
Such power they feed from mine so wise, S’not you s’not me, they choose just feed are blind in choice beyond holes of sieve Such holes they must be healed To regain your protective field.
Even in distance across time and space healing occurs from source trace, All is needed, permission granted intent is thought a decision planted Allow me, and I will remain silent till thoughts quenched end of violence.
My inner child,
really is a child
and a straw to blow
Mr whippy on winter days,
blankies in summer,
penny for a guy
and a sky full of glitter.
She likes a
nursery rhyme and
days gone past.
then blow them,
make daisy chain
then earn them.
She likes giggling
makes perfect sense.
She’s a real little girl.
She wants to hold
fingers not hands
and share kisses,
she wants simple love
not complicated war,
open thoughts not
the bang of a door.
My inner child
is just a girl,
and lost hope
she just wants to
true love, fairytale
crap with true loves
kisses that heal
her every scar.
My dearest, I do not forget your name
or whispered promises, tomorrow’s breeze
carries still your message, stand tall, fly free,
ageless spirit unburden fickle shame.
Resistance, for wild souls remain untamed.
Allow never again this heart to freeze
To love in abandoned hues will appease
lost embers of oceans eternal flames.
Yet, I feel the drumming echo of fear
pure porcelain pieces scattered across
the floor, vulnerability so near.
To not give is such a regretful loss
awakened I search the celestial sphere
for regret, is too much a haunting cost.
Rain drops, my dearest paradise fall upon my skin and cleanse my soul. Raphael, I know you hear my whispers, come, let’s sit by the open window and drink in the scent of life. The dark skies are consuming and the stars forgot today to twinkle like diamonds in a far of world. Do you hear the echo as each drop becomes a puddle? Do you hear the echo? Raphael wrap around me your wings of healing love, let us sit alone here and watch as the world is cleansed beneath droplets of heavens tears.