Some poetry, some prose, and some photos. Some of these pictures were taken more than a year ago, but still had hold the same meaning. Everything presented here is meant to tell a story. Read/look and enjoy.
I will not break I will not fold, the heaviest stories are the ones untold
Exhausted, losses become less impactful.
Fighting through figuring out, letting go, and stripping everything to hand to God.
Not taking back out of hands that hold universe, planets, souls in palm.
Merge under dawn with tinted skies pointing down into the sunroof. Sobriety of poems
Make freedom seem only a median away, His skies sprinkle light lifeboats in the middle of all.
5-7-2018: Sedated from the day to day. What coping agencies do you use? Sex, money, all the cliche vices that walk beside us. So much they become invisible to us in an attempt to make the uncomfortable parts of life invisible.
As of late my spirit has been troubled. Fixated on the fear of leaving. Not necessarily with myself but more so with those around me. The fear of losing encloses my light; shaping clouds of negative context that may or may not be there. Is life to be lived like this, in a constant fear of losing? 05-04-2018
Everything we have will be consumed in due time, left under the sun to burn and be lifted off this plateau in a fashion where it never existed. Our hearts are feeble pieces, constantly trying to save themselves from reality.
Outside this planet souls reach out like projectiles piercing night air, every body an innocent target.Tears break through masks leaving us naked exposed to life.