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Gutted heart
My hearts in my gut
My tears already fall in that tropical fashion
My body already heaves with my breath like a speedy version of listening to the tides pull back and pull in -pushing my head under the ocean and forcing me to taste the entire body of it’s salty tears
What Do you see Picture Prompt Challenge
Great gatsby, watched the birds flying high,, then Mick Jagger ruined it with collagen his rub dub ( step on a feather) overload and a fish called wonder …..and a bubbly flute – could be a poke up with magic tab if it is a Manual – (booked up) ermm… Mario – lumber jacked it plumber whose coin with a blush flush niacin face yet
still, a top draw unless you gamble with a new song for the experimental …. pick up the dutch bells and call it a half score. Call it a four-spade (perhaps ditch) lucky clover…I see a bubble of incoherent babble about thereabouts: hearts bleed, spades are in need and the aces egos blissful ignorance they don’t know the. Once a (ponder) time from the ENDh no GGBE pollen (was hurt in this catastrophic verbal conspiratory once (upon a time)
When the flowers..
When the flowers stood still
My heart ❤️ skipped a beat
Because I thought by the grace of God I knew better.
The winter disarmed me with a smile, I was suddenly subdued.
Momentarily I knew my panic attacks were an illusion
A mind convinced I would die as a strumpet without learning how to be astute.
I couldn’t be a pale white whore for the others to flagellate me.
Keep me in line with further a duty
Because I know my experience wasn’t to be an accordion.
To the whims of those who asked me to be a subordinate
For a season
My tears wouldn’t be known
My tears wouldn’t be recognised
Unless I said NO.
Freed from the shackles
A feminine bitch called crazy and intense
I believe that I was one of the few…
One more month and I would blossom from the weed who knew how to decipher the language lost in translation to her tribe that all wouldn’t always be askew.
One reason passes quicker than one can muster
Bide your time to break free from the shackles
The time the birds will come back to us in due time.
Freedom.
Your soul will find the strength to be reborn by winters ❄️ rebirth the sounds of baby sheep, foals, kids,
All will be reborn renewed
A girl’s introspection reflection
She lived a life of colour.
She lived a life of dull.
Throughout her life, she learned
That her desire for instant thrills
Having seen her become a woman who is miraculously
still alive!
Not a corpse waiting for her family to visit her grave mourning what life dispensed.
If her spirit inspired her desire to live as a dissident against the traditionalist life of her own free will.
10 days she was in a coma.
Today, she is alive and her perspective has changed on time,
on her ability to process the strength
She needs to draw upon less selfishness
to make life joyful for the ones who taught her that it’s okay to forget,
It’s okay to lose her way,
It’s all okay,
even when
She decides to instil what her children will impart
whether they take her advice seriously… Or on a whim.
I rise
I rise because I now see I am strong
I weep for the girl who once believed I was wrong,
Because others didn’t understand I was born with this face
It’s not because of my race.
I don’t have William fish syndrome.
I’m a woman with a heart as vast as the seven seas
The cost of investing in wasting time on vapid entities,
Taught me a lesson
Taught me how to rise up session after session.
I rise because I know I get it wrong, I admit!
I no longer weep for the girl I once was
For if it were the devil’s tears that once made me smile
Temporarily,
Now I know I am a woman who seeks to live a life more worthwhile.
