Little Girl

Little girl,

burn your fingers,
cut your hair,
be brave.

pick up your pencil,
use a crayon,
with the pen,
express.

Walk in over-sized heels,
And play house-
With your doll-baby.
Cook, clean and decorate.

Sit dreaming by the window,
And play with bangs of your
Long coloured hair.

Draw and write stories,
Dream with eyes that glaze
And bring a smile on your face.

And when your heart clenches,
Don’t forget to shed the tears,
You can try and hold them back;
Don’t be afraid.

Meet others in this world.
Look at the angles that call out to you.
Step up to all the challenges that you face.

Put make-up on,
Beauty that will brighten with time.
Just a little bit,
Because your eyes should twinkle
And your lips a grin.


Trust.
And be broken.
And remember to wipe your tears
And stand up again.

Hurt. Ache.
It’s a sweet lesson-
To sweeter moments.

Love.
It’s the most wonderful feeling.
From the bottom of your heart,
Form the innermost part of your being.

Keep secrets.
Read faces.
Don’t forget to pray.

Little girl,
Cradled in my arms,
Your breath so sweet,
Your mind so clear,
Your heart so pure and
Your dreams that sparkle.
Learn these lessons,
Embrace the reasons,
Dear heart,
You are little me;
It’s the beautiful person you’re to be!
It’s you in the future,
Holding your hand and
Taking you to your
Sparkling, dazzling future!

Somewhere

Inspired by the song Somewhere by Within Temptation



I'll find you somewhere
untill my dying day...

My cold white feet walk
along the path of Destiny
but I know my silver dead eyes can
change the road ahead
My ghost is beside me
my humanity was dead
a few days ago
but still I will come...

I'll find you somewhere
untill my diying day...

I'll keep on trying to
change the way they see me
and what they wanted to make

you
Never could they see what was
so serene
Now never will they, what you

could have been

They are the dummies of time
of their own virtues that decide
end of our time
never will they wake from their

eternal rest
to see the Aveyond
turned to

dust.

Hell be not proud

What the hell?? the dust= the air is killing me every second as I cough. it's terrible. its not planned so it's just waiting for my body to heal and get better but the wait is infuriating.. hell has enough to be proud.

How can there be so much pain
in one person's heart??
How can there be so much fear,
the constant anxiety to be removed
from this world
Even though all you seek is deliverence,
escape from this blood bathed heaven,
you still fear giving this all up.
Fearing that you were never really
good enough to live up to your dreams.
That you fear constantly that some measure
of evolution
will knock you out of the scheme of things,
like an off note tune,
like an untimely beat.
You're just simply removed
and forgotten
like the insane number of species of life
that have once been part of this world.
Even for me to be created, something else
had to go.
There had to be a void that was created
for me to fill
my destiny was pre-decided.
the way pre-built..
nothing that I have in my heart was matching the
patterns my feet were making as I walked down
this way that was for not very long empty.
where I began there was still a little warmth
in the footprints that I began on and
now the foot prints that I leave are replaced by cold
and swishing water
that wipes the sand clean
its with every step that I'm dying
out in the series of thoughts that for a few hours
give me a gothic release that is dark ink that
eats and decays into the paper.
It must pain the paper to be scratched upon.
It is the degree of misery that a placid life
in the fields seeks in the fast life of the city
and the claustraphobic choking eyes that seek
the sands and the water that swallows up footsteps.
I guess I was just in the line of things that existed
that maybe my line was something that is steadily going instinct.
Listening to some sort of wall that creates a barrier for my tears to flow inside me
To reveal a new path down my face.
Its the vacant empty hunger that I beleive not even time can replace.
Because it is vacant empty hunger that of which
the depth I cannot calculate...
No measure to estimate,
How do you measure the depth of which most of it is
virtual?
How do I sever this line of fate and for once
move to a stage of self-preservation that does not include
self-hate?
Where do you learn to draw the line when what you did is reflecting on what you are
and You are just a shadow of what you Did?
I am dusty and hazy and vague as the mist that gathers upon the months of winter mornings that I walk
as a task that I have to complete to just continue my need to continue the steps
and all the happiness is the crude sense of existance
not that this existance makes sense
because I like to complicate things.
Easy things confuse me.
Simple things stupify me
and 'tis just the easy way that you got luck'
is just too good to be true to be relieved.
Cant deny this need to say that
My existance is short lived
and I am denied of pleasure even in the crudest sense.
The pain that I cannot speak of is revealed in the
fantsy of my 'here's to a happy ending'
keeps my steps going.
slow. Weakning from within
my body turns to a mist that's containted by the 5 layers of flesh that hide the air.
The smile plastered on my face is because it takes time to turn this mist to water
and the silent night,
alone in bed,
that's all that's left of my life.
A stain on the sheets, a dark wet, cold and non-living
Puddle of water.

Wind-II

Wind –II

The mellow night lights the stars
And the full moon.
Its craters darken from the light it reflects
Onto my heart.
There’s the suns’ energy
Untyring, undying spirit,
Lighting up my eyes,
With flecks of gold from the firelight,
Crackiling cinders,
Flames licking the gutted logs with a femme touch.
I lay my head in the sand,
Staring at the sky as stars fill my eyes, ever-ready
To be named and decorated
The celestial home,
My earth, my home, my haven, my sacred shelter for the questing soul.
I don’t need a reason to be happy and relaxed here,
It comes out of nature, a habit
This planet, planet Earth, goddess Earth,
Mother earth, protector of us all that
I share my home with, a heaven,
Yes, it’s heaven, it’s no where else
Because we’re born here and belong
To this part of the Milky Way.
In this goddess’s hands each one of us is
Special, loved and cared.
She blesses and endows us with
Beauty, individuality and security
And binds us all into one
breath.
Every 3 seconds the planet breaths together,
So pray on every 3rd breath
To fill this word with happiness and peace,
United, the peace and love is forever.

WIND

Wind

Feel the wind toss
Up my hair
Strands, that fly across my face, tickle and
Caress me.
The sudden touch of an angle,
lights up my face, bright
but I can only close my eyes.
I do not wish to see this angle ,
If only to end up judging it.
The feeling is pure and a high
And that’s all I want-
Little dots of sparkling mika- dust
Twinkiling on my glowing golden-brown skin,
I’m happy to be alive and breathing
Fluttering my clothes of pure white silken-cotton,
My feet softly stepping on clouds of desert sand.
The exceptional cool at sunset and dawn..
The sensual softness of the sand and wind
and my blowing hair and music somewhere
remote in my mind.
Playing a soft, mellow melody,
Makes me smile from my belly button,
Rising up, filling me,
Sun-burnt skies mellow to a twilight
purple haze,
the sun has set,
but my smile hasn’t.

Drink

There will be blood, I said
on the great platform, a flute full,
from your vein
in a flute
like wine
I'll drink.
Into you.
My breath sinks and rises like fumes of insence
mixes with the scent.
A tablet of rat-kill they left out for me.
But to be a rat it takes supreme care and precision.
Practice till there is no difference between me and it.

just scuttering in the street way as ogers of odd sizes make up the sea and the sky I float on.
Till I reach your throne
and sink in my teeth and
change back to who I am
A blood-sucking power hungry merciless
woman.
My eyes are red from insomnia and the rage of my past
the sky is red from my tears.
The graveyard has my sunken footprints that
don't fill up in the rain.
And the flowers will not dry on your grave.
Your memory will never fade.
It will always be just yesturday when you sat
where I sit.
Your face sparkling with the secptical smile.
Secptical is what power makes you, but I am yet to find that out!
Your blood was like the sweetest wine.. the elixir
that the soul dreamed of
my sweet victim,
Do not cry,
your voice is in the darkness..