LeahGrace
My vote. I could have counted on my one hand how many times I had been asked for my vote. No. I could have counted on one finger how many times I had been asked for my vote. But that one time, that one time was all it took. I was hooked into it. My opinion mattered to someone. I mattered to someone.
Her pupils dialated. Oh what that told me about them.
She knew it too.
She'd given away their little secret without saying a damn thing
Bastard child.
Me, a bastard child raised in a house of orthodox monks?
Isn't that one of those things that was against the Word?
Perhaps not. I could be wrong.
Then again, I never did pay much attention to those classes.
Sandcastle on the beach
Sandcastle on the shore
In come the tidal waves,
Sandcastle no more
Big person in the city
Big person in the sky
Bigger person comes along
Little person now but why?
Kisses sweet like honey
Kisses sweet like milk
Kisses like the summertime
And dandelions and silk.
Overcooked... There's not much to write here about this topic, but I'll try...
I set forth on this journey, hoping that one day I'd reach a place of shining waters and serene beaches, nay, I have reached a place of squelching sun and overripe fruits. It is here that I am left, overcooked by the broiling suns of others. It is here that I feel the burn of others' stares as I walk among the seashells. I am over cooked by the light that shines in each and every other human as if it was their entire career to outshine me. But here I am still, hoping that in some way I will be able to understand and shine brighter than all others. This is my hope, I am no longer happy in this world where I am cooked beyond compare, yet, I want to cook others!
He stood before me, looking like the silvery mist that hovered over the water just behind him. What was he? A real man? Or a glimps into the imagination that I had so long ago left behind? Maybe both, but I cared little for these things; I knew that I wanted him. But only in the most innocent of ways.
Behind the curtain, there is a prisoner, I'm sure you know his name. He is so strong and terribly loving that his heart rings true, He's only a prisoner in the heart inside you.
Bluegrass bloom.
Bluegrass seed.
Feel beneath the blades
The full and warming spring.
Love the way the flowers grow,
between the roots beneath the soil.
This is where you and I collide.
Begin again. Seed again.
Then stay and grow.