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  • sm108_ 70w

    Tempest: a storm made of wind

    I would see storms as something to fear,
    something to run from and blame
    Trees are whipped down, and people are put into the ground,
    and storms are what we have to blame.
    If nobody lived on this planet, if there were nothing but green life and scaled animals,
    A storm would come and rip up chunks of roots
    And turn the sky grey and then, in the following months, that green would grow right back.
    The ground might
    And the ocean might
    but eventually it would heal again. And that could continue forever. 

     But because we are here, we fear storms.

    I witness storms everyday, within souls and weather
    and struggles
    And so
    They start to become a part of me. The way I see things.
    The spin,
    Or my luck of not being in the thick of its wind. Not in the fires around the world, just surrounded

    by their smoke. 

  • sm108_ 95w

    Sorry it's kinda trash

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    I associate myself not with
    Warm fingers or good days or friends that hold your hand or
    Or dark roads
    Or deep oceans that fill with echos and saline
    I don't see myself here as one thing or feeling.
    I don't see myself.
    I don't see myself through a lens someone else painted,
    Or a clean fresh one the plastic just peeled,
    Or a cracked and blistered one
    I don't. I don't smell and taste of linens and lavender and sweat and
    Sticky palms and coconut- I am just one thing.
    The burning, bright, bright, blinding fire in my eyes.

  • sm108_ 153w

    Love Is

    Love is the tyranny of saying goodbye when you arnt ready to let go
    Love is the golden memories that run like a rivers - the silk that weaves a ocean
    Love is streetlights that spill on poeple waiting for a promise
    Love isunspoken hope and and taking leaps of blind faith
    Love is the inpulse to fight hate, in new york nightime with blurry lights and flurrys of poeple holding sighns …. Sucking in their breath and walking forward
    Love is throwing yourself into words, flipping your heart, binding yourself to hope, risking your pride
    Love is chaisng paths you cant see, storys without endings, romances without begginnings
    Love is

    Love is closing your eyes and holding on to my hand and
    off a cliff.

  • sm108_ 163w

    on his a chair of clouds
    A crown of rose petals and
    baby grass as hair
    A delicate heart of glass and bronze
    A spector of love
    Holding us in his hands, weighting our
    future on a birds yellowed wing
    Cupid looking at me with fresh eyes
    Sprung with green hope
    And at that fleeting moment.......

    He left.
    But was never really gone.
    For he had shot me with his arrow
    with the hope for love

  • sm108_ 163w

    The undergrowth of the blue forest
    Freckled eggs on pillows of moss
    And fairy feet trinkling over the dainty mushrooms
    Sky-winged butterflys with honey eyes
    Hanging willows
    Flowers the color of a free river
    Soundless twinkles of magic
    Floating in the air -
    Royal blue, midnight purple, rosewood red, and swirls of lavender and lilly
    Running up the horizon of never ending blue dreams

  • sm108_ 170w

    rain and chalk

    I look at my them. My mother with her evergreen eyes and my father, with eyes so dark they look like a blackbirds beak. My father's voice was like a stump of chalk scraping on the sidewalk and my mothers like the melodious rain that washes it away. My Father moved like a typewriter, built up decades of memories and punched keys and my mom: My mom moved like ink, like the flow of water.
    And together they moved hearts to write a beautiful story.


  • sm108_ 170w

    I missed

    I missed the page, and the brocken pencil
    and now that it is crumbling in my hands
    I have a story.

  • sm108_ 178w

    God's Heart

    When there are hands for us to hold onto
    we choose to salvage for ourselves
    alas we draw blood instead of freedom
    we feel crushed by water we are barely under
    our beaten hands consume yet more pain and we begin to accept it as life, we begin to deny that there is hope.
    however much darkness we consume
    there is still the choice for redemption
    yet we fill ourselves with lies
    that there is no return for a sinners like us,
    we write with our hands what's never written in the bible,
    and slowly you never stop running from your own soul.
    Though there is always a way into Gods heart,
    for it is your home.

  • sm108_ 178w

    Humming tears

    The song of humming tears
    Makes me only light a sad smile

    Yesterday i’d laugh as the guitar shielded us from tears
    Strumming along to pain
    Like it was a melody
    All fine and ready that anyone could have
    Like when it came,
    And it would
    We have to look it right in the eye and sing along
    Because you can’t always fight with life,
    And that's how it comes.

  • sm108_ 178w

    We have to enjoy everything while its here #save_the_trees

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    Sweet Valley Of Breath

    The sweet valley of breath
    Whatever is
    The treetops stop

    The city climbing

    The valleys breath g e t t i n g
    The fatherly tickle of forest
    Displaced in silver cities
    The grass only a ghost