*artwork- “wound” by pejac via artcollectorz.com
When I pick a scab,
Tiny echo of ache,
What do I wish to feel?
Quite simple.
To feel.
It’s yearning for yearning.
An infinite plowing through barren fields
Of terrain so hard and frozen.
Burnt.
Forsaken.
Orphaned.
No woman’s land.
My enslavement to pain
Never loosens its grip.
Devout hostage to sour lump in my throat, I am.
Won’t ever spit out
Won’t ever push in.
That’s right. For
Being tormented is of rarest value.
*artwork- “sun dance” via artfinder.com/paigecastile
when i step into my room,
after a long day of waiting for things
to happen,
i am about to have two hours of
witnessing the sun hitting my space lovingly
caressing my face like my grandma never would.
right there and then my day starts to unfold
and right there and then my heart is full with
for all the little and great things that i can feel
and touch and see and experience
nothing is taken for granted
for every slippery moment is precious.
so this light that consumes the rooms
for about two hours, daily
is a tenacious reminder of appreciation
for whatever virtues i was granted.
on my way up 