Monthly Archives: February 2014

Twitter 2-10-14

A few of the things I’ve written today. If you don’t follow me on Twitter, you should. Right now, it’s where I do my best writing. 🙂
 
 
 
I can’t help but wonder
If love is worth it
Hearts ripped open, torn asunder.
Why do we take that risk?
For moments like this?

Love hurts.

Love can be
such a tenuous thing
And will break
With an audible
“TING”
If not bound over and over
Steel threads twining
Ever binding
You
to
Me.

How is one
As broken as I
As shattered and fucked up
Supposed to deal
Supposed to heal
With all this mire and muck?

I always hope it’s not
As bad as it seems
Though the darkest thoughts
Haunt my dreams

Daydreams aren’t always good.

You’ve broken my spell
And my walls fell
I invited you in,
Smiling
Take what you will
I’ll love you still
Through the end of me
Dying.

Antiseptic hospitals
Cabs to call.

Medicine that makes it worse
That’s the curse.

The gauntlet
Again
Tossed.

Someone else take it? …

Tonight has been tough,
But through it I’ll rough.
I will grin
And bear it
With you I would ride
Every tide.
I love you –
You’re worth it.

I’ll never understand
How anyone can
So brutally
Intentionally
And with a clear plan
Destroy their fellow man

I sing songs to myself
My own personal wealth
That I would share with you.
Whoever you are, however far
Let me sing to you, long and true

Wish I knew how to heal you
Wish I knew just what to do
To mend your heart
Raise you from the dark
You deserve the light, it’s true.

Dreams dashed, hearts crashed
Everything falls apart
But even dreams can be mended
Even a broken heart

I have to believe

With duct tape and spit
With shear will and grit
With force if I must
And a thousand years of dust and rust

I’ll get your gears grinding…

Take my hand
I have a plan
Let’s run away together
Escape this life
Leave beyond strife
The circus sounds much better

I’ll be a knife thrower
You could tame the kitties.
😉

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From The Vault – 2

I burst out laughing when I found this hiding at the bottom of an old folder.  This was the original first chapter of a multidimensional science-fiction thriller I started to write years ago.  I still have bits and pieces of it floating around.  Oh, read, laugh, and understand why I stopped writing!  =P

 

*****

 

Her sapphire eyes were bright, laughing at the scene in front of her, an arm wrapped loosely around the waist of the handsome man at her side.  She tossed her hair from her eyes as the mimes juggled and capered beneath the fairground entrance.  Their painted on faces gleamed with sweat, performing tumbles and small acrobatics for the onlookers: mostly children and their bored-looking parents.
Terra felt a tug at her arm, and realized the parents weren’t the only ones bored here.  Ryan was giving her an impatient look, glancing at the mimes as the small crowd burst into chuckles.  She flirted a smile his way, and with one last backward glance allowed herself to be led deeper into the fair.
“You know, it means a lot to me that you wanted to do this Ry,” Terra said, looking up at the tall man.  “She can be a little scary to me, and I’ve known her all my life.”  The “she” in question being Terra’s mother.
Ryan smiled at her, bringing her hand to his lips for a soft kiss, then swinging it playfully between them.  “Well, it means a lot to me that you’re letting me come,” he replied.  “For a while there I was wondering why you kept refusing to bring me.”
“Well, when you actually meet her, you might see why I didn’t want to.”  Terra gave him a half-hearted smirk, a bit worried about the event about to take place.
“Hey now, she can’t be all that bad.  She managed to make to do an ok job raising you in the middle of a circus,” Ryan teased.
“Ok?  Just ok?”  Terra punched him lightly in the arm, playing up the affront by pulling her hand from his and stalking off.  Chuckling, he grabbed her, picking her up from behind and swinging her around.
“She did a wonderful job, is what I meant.”  He set her down and gently turned her around.  Wrapping his arms around her and tugging her close, he kissed her nose softly and whispered, “Wonderful.”
A flush worked its way over her face, and she nuzzled close to him.
“Yeah, well you’re pretty ok too there Mr. Lancing.”
They laughed, releasing each other and continued making their way down the main thoroughfare, hand in hand, some of the tension evaporating.
Occasionally they paused at some of the stands to watch a few games being played: a young man with a plastic six-shooter in his hand, popping off tin ducks to win a stuffed football; laughing children playing a fishing game with magnets dangling from the lines; a flock of older women standing around a low table watching a man shuffling three cards at light speed.  The couple smiled to each other as the women sighed disappointedly, losing their money again.
Weaving through striped tents with barkers yelling and children screaming excitedly to their parents, it was easy for the couple to imagine having been transported back in time.  With the heavy smell of meats roasting over fire pits, small piles of dung left by horses and other tame animals that meandered through the people, men wandering aimlessly with lutes in hand, playing music that seemed created specifically to lure people to lay down their money with no thought, the air of the medieval seemed to pervade everything.  Barkers shouted at the passerbys to stop for a peek at what was hidden inside the canvas houses behind them, advertising “sights that would dazzle and leave your mind straining at reality!”
The strong scent of animals and popcorn invaded their noses as they stepped around throngs of anxious fairgoers waiting in queues for the next turn on the Ferris wheel, or jostling for a seat in the bumper cars with their friends.  They watched as young and old alike were being taken in at every corner, and with glee etched on their faces.  There were knights clashing swords in a circle made of hay bales, and even a small rodeo where young men were heaved furiously upon the backs of wild horses.
Terra snuggled against her boyfriend’s arm as they walked in their own bubble of silence, a soft smile carried with ease on her face.  It felt like coming home, and in a way it was.  They were here to meet with her mother, a carny since the day she left her own home in Mexico at seventeen.  Ryan had been asking to meet her for several months now, and when she’d finally decided that he wasn’t asking out of politeness, she’d agreed to the trip.
“Where did she say we were supposed to find her?”  Ryan asked, his brow furrowing as his hand waved in frustration at the crowds around them.  The fairgrounds were packed, and there was no indication of where anything was.  Shading her eyes from the brutal midday sun, Terra searched the tents, familiar with the typical layout.
“It should be that way, beyond the funhouse,” she said.  He took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, though whether for her or for himself, she could not be sure.  She smiled up at him, his head nearly a full foot above her own, then quickly rose to her toes to plant a small kiss on his cheek.  “No worries now, ok?”  She grinned, ruffling his hair, and they set off.
The loose corners of the funhouse tent were flapping wildly as the wind picked up, adding another layer to the cacophony surrounding them.  The two barely noticed though, as the fortune teller’s tent slowly came into view.  No lines were present here, and the noise seemed to dissipate as they left the concourse.  It was set back from the main walk, nearly hidden between two of the larger tents.  If you weren’t looking for it, it would have been hard to find.
Terra shrugged as Ryan glanced nervously at her.
“All part of the draw,” she said, her voice a few decibels lower.  “Makes it seem more mysterious, keeping it in the shadows.”  She laughed softly, remembering the days when she herself was scared to enter, even knowing the reasons for it’s somewhat spooky presentation.
They walked slowly, pausing at the tents entrance and listening, in case “The Seer” was presently entertaining a mark.
“Come in, come in,” the melodious voice sang out, a heavy Mexican accent giving it a seductive resonance.  “You are my only clients today, and I have been waiting eagerly to tell your fortune.”
With a firm squeeze of each others hands and a quick look between them, they entered the dimly lit chamber, a small cloud of incense escaping as they went.
From the inside, the tent felt even smaller than it looked, packed as it was with the seers paraphernalia.  Three large trunks took up most of the space against one “wall,” heaped with books of increasing sizes. Racks of clothes, robes and shawls gave the impression that the woman not only worked in the space, but lived in it as well.  There was an ancient oak wardrobe looming ominously at the back of the space, it’s scarred doors fixed with a sturdy looking padlock.  A long low table occupied the center of the room, clad in a weathered looking red cloth.  On top of it sat the obligatory crystal ball, a deck of worn tarot cards, and a half empty chipped teacup.  Two upholstered grey chairs sat before the table, the fabric threadbare, showing the pocked and yellowing cushions beneath.
The woman sitting behind the table though made the room feel all the more claustrophobic.  She wasn’t large by any means, probably slightly over five foot five, and weighing no more than one-ten, one hundred and fifteen pounds at most.  Her presence however, was that of a giant.  Looking at her, one felt small, unable to keep their eyes from such a woman; or, more commonly, unable to look directly at her, for fear that doing so would engender her wrath.
“Terra.”  She spoke softly now, turning the name into a sigh as she gazed upon the young woman.
“It has been too long.  My, but you are stunning.”  A smile graced her face, and it was as if a light had been lit in the room.  Her features looked delicate now instead of imposing, and her small mouth parted in a quiet laugh.
She rose, coming quickly from around the table, embracing her daughter before Terra knew what was happening.  After a long moment, she wrapped her arms around the older woman, holding her tightly and inhaling her scent.  Sage, roses, and something distinctly old and musty – the smell of the aged texts the woman was so fond of.
“It’s good to see you mom.  You don’t look any older than when I last saw you.”  Terra stepped back out of her mothers arms, grasping her hands and smiling.  Her eyes traced over the woman’s face, noting the small lines, how the color of her eyes had dimmed slightly, but recognizing the fierce love that shone out.
As if seeing him standing there for the first time, her mother looked at Ryan, glancing up and down, sizing him up.  The smile faltered for the briefest of moments, causing a fraction of worry to crease Terra’s face, before her hands came to his shoulders, and she folded him into her arms.
“Ryan, is it?” she asked, then released him without letting him answer and returned to her place behind the table.  “Please, sit, make yourselves at home,” she said, gesturing to the chairs.
They sat, Terra placing her bag carefully on the floor, her eyes perusing the contents of the space as the silence in the room began to grow.  Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his chair, opening his mouth as if to say something, then shutting it with an audible click that left him blushing to the roots of his long black hair.  Her mother sat there smiling, watching them like a lioness amusedly observing her prey.
After an age of silence had passed, the words Terra came to say stuttered from her mouth at last.
“We’re g-getting married mom.  Ryan and me.”  Realizing the obviousness of what she had said, she winced, her eyes falling to the table.  She took a deep breath, and looked to her mother for her reaction.
Still sitting there with that predatory smile, she made no reply at first, then slowly nodded.
“Aye.  I assumed it was either that, or you were dying.  Something serious, to have you come to see me at last.”


Challenges

I’ve found myself challenged a lot lately. In regards to my writing, finding that I may in fact be something of a poet. I stumble with that description. Like I said, it’s nothing I’d ever have seriously considered were it not for my fun with rhymes on Twitter. But I am so loving it. Letting loose these little pants of steam, making words dance to my tune — sometimes a tune only I can hear, but still. The feedback I’ve gotten has been tremendous. I’ll admit to doing a little basking from time to time when I find that a piece I wrote has been retweeted several times over. That makes me glow.

Not sure if I have it in me to tackle the longer poetry. Seems like every time I try I just want to tear my fingers off for failing me. But, I shall persevere. Something to look forward to, perhaps.

Regarding my other venture, the steamy, smutty short I posted – oh that one has caused me no end of anxiety, I’ll be honest. While I’ve gotten great feedback from it I don’t want to be known as that kind of writer. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, it’s something I’d be delighted to find in a novel. A nice surprise. And I’ll also admit to perusing the writers at Literotica.com. 😉

But sex isn’t my story. Though it may play a supporting role at times, it’s not the story I want to tell. It’s not how I want to touch people. I’ve been told my writing can be emotionally moving. That’s what I want to hear. That I’ve made someone feel something (not just in their nether regions), that I’ve left them with something they didn’t have before, a new insight, or… Well, in time, maybe you’ll see.

As far as my life goes, every day is a challenge. Not many people know the extent to which I deal with anxiety. It has limited so many aspects of my life in frustrating and painful ways. And has made me feel so ashamed and so worthless. It is a very tender subject – even writing about it here, right now, makes me want to lean on the ol’ Backspace key and never mention it again. But that wouldn’t be very honest of me, now would it? So, even when it hurts, I’ll keep trying, keep pushing. C’est la vie, pain.

Another challenge I deal with on a daily basis is worrying about my mother’s health. I won’t go into details, but this last year has really worn her down. She has been ill off and on, and with such increasing frequency and ferocity that I’ve come to dread every sniffle sneeze and cough. Every pain, every ache. I know it’s just going to get worse, it’s inevitable. And though we have family, I can’t count on them for support. I can’t even look to my brother. I’ve long accepted that it’s my job, my purpose in life, to be there for my mother. It’s why fate hasn’t granted me a husband and family of my own. At this point I’ve gone too far down this road to even think of turning away. I wish things were different, and I’m scared as hell that I won’t be good enough, strong enough. But I try.

With respect to others, I know my life isn’t all that bad. I have a home, plenty of food, a few new friends whose company I enjoy. I have people who love me and care for me and even a couple who support me. I have so many things to be grateful for, and I am. When life’s challenges bring me to a grinding halt, I do my best to deal with them head-on. Or at least find a way to circumnavigate them.

Anyway. That’s a glimpse into my sometimes sad little head. I haven’t even touched on my alcohol dependance or the men in my life. Quite challenging aspects indeed. Maybe next time.

Thanks for reading.


TY Poet Friends

To my Poet Friends,
On whom I’ve come to depend
I thank you.

For every delight
For giving your insight.

I am, forever, grateful.


Tough

Tonight has been tough,
But through it I’ll rough.
I will grin
And bear it
With you I would ride
Every tide.
I love you –
You’re worth it.


Quietly Waiting

I can write erotica, yes.  🙂

*****

You find me ready and waiting.  So ready.

On my hands and knees on my bed, wearing a short black nighty that does nothing to cover my bare ass.  Looking back at you with a welcoming smile, eyes shining with desire.

Without a word, you are on the bed behind me, your stiffening cock in hand.  Holding my hip steady, you slowly push inside, and release a flood of warmth – pooling there just for you.  You pull back and spread my juices all along the outside of my pussy.  The tip of your cock, dripping with my anticipation for you, circles and teases my clit, making me shudder and moan, pushing back against you.

You hold me steady, and with delicious cruelty, smack my clit with your cock.  I cry out, jumping, and you shush me, tell me to keep still.  Your cock rock hard now, you tease me again, running up and down the lips of my wet pussy, again circling my clit, again smacking it.

You torture me this way until I am begging you to stop, my clit crying out for steady pressure, for release.  Your cock so wet from base to tip, sheathed and glistening with my juices, you line yourself up, grab my hips, and slam into me hard.

I come instantly, screaming out your name, grinding my ass back against you.  My pussy convulses around you as you push, burying yourself so deep inside me.  Your cock bathed in waves of hot, wet, clenching flesh.

I am still coming when you start to fuck me, gripping the sheets of the bed with white knuckles.  You move in me, slowly at first.  Watching as your cock emerges from my cunt, wet and sticky.  Watching as you feed it back into me.  I am so tight around you.  With every slow thrust, you claim me, stretch me, fill me perfectly.

I start to move against you, and you pick up the pace.  Your hips slam against my ass, your hands find my shoulders and pull me back on you harder.  Loving the feel of your cock inside me, both of us lost in the agonizing pleasure.

Suddenly you grab my hair, wrapping it around your hand and tugging slightly, holding my head up and making me arch my back more.  Reaching down with your other hand, you graze my clit, making my pussy bite down harder on your cock.  Fucking me steadily, your fingers circle, rubbing harder and faster.  And again I explode on your dick.

While my cunt clenches around you, while I am at the brink of collapsing in rapture, you grip my hips tight and pound into me mercilessly.  Your cock battering my pussy so hard it’s all I can to to stay upright.  I am overcome and in tears while you take me.  Your cock swelling further inside me as you fuck me, staking me so deeply.

With one final hard thrust, you empty yourself in me.  The feel of your cock throbbing and twitching in me, hot bursts of come flooding me, sends me over the edge, again and again and again.  I grind back against you, wanting every drop of you, needing it.  Loving giving you that release.  Loving how you give it to me.


Twitter Poetry – The Archive Vol 1

Claude Bouchard, via @ceebee308 on Twitter told me today to lose the question mark after “Twitter poet” in my bio.  I’ve been fighting it, being labeled as a poet.  I am a serious writer, damnit!  And poetry is so…  Serious.  Yes, poetry is serious.  So I’ll aim to take it that way.  Well, most of the time.  😉  The question mark lives no longer — thank you, again, Claude Bouchard.  🙂

Please enjoy some examples of my Twitter poetry. 140 chars or less.

Jan 13/14
Winter’s cold.
Streets are slick.
Walks from the bus stop – tricky.
Loaded down with beer,
Looking forward to home.
And, perhaps, a Twinkie.

Jan 13/14
Twinkies are good,
But pizza is best.
The cheaper the better,
I say.
Cheep smokes are good.
Cheap beer is better.
Cheap men the best,
I say.

Jan 14/14
There is a guy I feel for,
And want to feel up, forgive me.
He’s spectacular, believe me!
His assets make me dreamy.
My dreams leave me..

Jan 15/14
Oh, words so fail me!
Loving you with my support.
Wish it was enough.

Oh, my love fails me!
Never giving you enough.
Why can’t I be more?

Jan 15/14
Know I have your back.
Even when you don’t have mine.
Hashtag Still Love You

Jan 18/14
When will I be enough?
Isn’t it enough that I try?
Is this my cue, is it yours,
That we should say goodbye?

Jan 18/14
I give my all,
When Love I’ve found,
To lift high and regale!
But when love falls low,
And is often lost.
I’m left with empty sails.

Jan 18/14
I’ll drink my lot
And think of naught,
Find comfort in comfortabilities.
Play Midnight Club,
Aye, there’s the rub!
Delight in nonsenisbilities.

Jan 18/14
Victoria Flair,
Writer of so much drivel,
Invites you to read.

VictoriaFlair.net

Jan 19/14
Nothing to offer you,
Not even my love.
Merely words to comfort,
That do no real good.
I want you, my friend
To find what you seek.
The Best.

Jan 19/14
You’re breaking a heart
That has no right to break.
You’re giving to me
What I have no right to take.
I’m sorry.

Jan 20/14
Few words were exchanged,
Yet enough to spark a flame,
“trespass sweetly urged!”
#Shakespeare #haiku

Jan 20/14
Notwithstanding doubt,
Desire will always win out.
Flames turn to a blaze.
#haiku

Jan 20/14
Heat engulfs, swallows,
Fills the aching emptiness.
Searing with relief.
#haiku

Jan 20/14
Conflagration reached!
Brilliant sparks shatter the night!
A roaring release!
#haiku

Jan 20/14
Flames recede in waves.
Quiet, blissful aftermath.
Coals still burning bright.

Until the next Good Night.
#haiku

Jan 21/14
Wish I was the one,
Your all encompassing sun.
Revolve around me?

bit.ly/1hcEiQM

Jan 21/14
I’m done. Disconnect.
I can only give so much.
Can’t do this alone.

=/

#haiku

Jan 22/14
Loneliness, old friend,
Come to torment me again?
Fuck you, not this time!
bit.ly/1fZ4v8H

Jan 22/14
Put your faith in me.
Please know I’ll never hurt you.
You are part of me.

#haiku

Jan 22/14
Fuck, I can’t help it!
Can’t erase you from my mind.
I saw that picture…

And damn.

#haiku #still want you #sorrynotsorry

Jan 23/14
If I must be at the
Vanguard
at the Vanguard I
Shall be.
If arrows should pierce anyone
I would that it were me.

bit.ly/1bXkpNj

Jan 23/14
Your arrows cannot
stop me.
Not even stall my step!
I will always keep on
fighting.
Dare me.
I won’t be kept.

bit.ly/1bXkpNj

Jan 23/14
Cute boy, it won’t be.
You’re a thousand miles away!
Fantasy – can’t be.

Jan 23/14
Too much fantasy,
Too much dreaming, isn’t good.
Always a let-down.

Jan 23/14
When dreams meet real life,
Magic can explode, take flight!
Till then, only dreams.

And dreams are lonely.

Jan 23/14
My heart is not mine.
It belongs to another.
Though I deny it…

Jan 23/14
I deny my heart,
For he is not mine to love.
Only to care for..

Long for..

Jan 23/14
It seems hardly fair,
That I lay my heart so bare,
Only on Twitter…

Thru #haiku

Jan 24/14
Snot pours from my nose,
Eyes cloud with a salty fog.
Need to be in bed.

#sick #haiku

Jan 24/14
Gusts rattle windows,
Trees flais and twist, try to flee.
Loose shingles flying.

I hate windy days.

#haiku

Jan 26/14
Bad night, can’t take it.
My emotionas are too raw.
I’m feeling confused.

#haiku

Jan 26/14
Bad night, can’t fake it.
Wondering what I am to you.
Friend, ally, or more?

#haiku

Jan 26/14
Bad night, can’t make it.
Can’t take not knowing – Why me?
Please, what do you want?

#haiku

Jan 27/14
A cold walk, in snow.
A pain that would alter worlds.
These are my stories.

wp.me/p4eeun-2f

#haiku

Jan 27/14
@jay_suqires

Jay Squires, writer, friend,
And septuagenarian!
Dream big, never flush.

😉 bit.ly/1ed2KSt

Jan 27/14
@webofloneliness

Web of Loneliness,
All my words are yours to use.
You helped me find them.

❤ bit.ly/1dKhbJ0

Jan 27/14
@Teresa_Cypher

Teresa Cypher,
Weekend Writing Warrior.
And Inspiration.

Thanks! bit.;y/1b3Dhq0

Jan 27/14
@CaballoFrances

Frances Caballo,
Friend to writers great and small!
Thanks for all you do.

Seriously, TY. bit.ly/19YmTvM

Jan 27/14
@ItsReklezzMane

For It’s Rekless Mane,
I have nothing but support.
This guy is awesome.

Wish ya’ll could hear his music. Cuz damn. ❤

Jan 28/14
I’m depressed.
Words won’t come.
No matter how had I call.
I got nothing.
‘Cept this.

bit.ly/1d5CAwc

#micropoetry #depression

Jan 28/14
You’ll never know how deep
And shallow
I am.

#micropoetry

Jan 28/14
Watching Teen Mom 2,
I know I should be writing!
Damn guilty pleasures…

#haiku #lazy @MTV

Jan 28/14
Just because
I’m not sitting around
Waiting for you to call…
Doesn’t mean I’m not.

#micropoetry #disappointment

Jan 28/14
Don’t trust my “=P” and “lol,”
Sometimes my emotes lie.
I may be lauthing to you, when
On my side of the screen,
I just want to cry.

Jan 28/14
Fuck!
Can I just tell you that I love you,
And be done with it already?
I know it won’t mean much,
Except to me…

#micropoetry #whining

Jan 28/14
He gives me the love you won’t.
I can give him the love he wants.
It’s not a perfect world.
We all have our boundaries.

#micropoetry

Jan 29/14
What have I gotten myself into?
What have I become?
I can’t, I won’t
Be a woman I despise-
How did I let myself get here?

How?

Jan 29/14
I want to sleep
To be unconscious
To forget about you,
Not dream about you.
What are the chances?

I hate that I love you.

#micropoetry

Jan 29/14
Dust on furniture
Ling and leaves on the floor
Give my life meaning
How sad is that?

#micropoetry

Jan 29/14
Sometimes, when i read them,
My words sound like a lie.
Is sincerity so rare,
I can’t even believe myself?

#micropoetry #disbelief

Jan 30/14
I still don’t know
If I’ll find a love
That meets up to
The best.
Who can possibly
Stand
That
Test?

bit.ly/1b9q0MD

#life

Jan 30/14
Too many thoughts in my head
at once.
Each clamoring to be heard,
set free.
It’s painful to keep track.
Seriously, it hurts

#micropoetry

Jan 30/14
My life, at times
Feels overwhelming.
Though to others it would
Seem simple.
Guess it’s all about
Perspective.

Jan 30/14
When I want to say
“I love you,”
And it’s implicit that I not
Where does that leave me?

Babe, tell me
What am I supposed to do?

Jan 30/14
And, fuck.
I’ve forgotten what I was saying
And to whom.
Guess that’s my signal
To say G’night.

Though I might Tweet from bed.

Jan 30/14
To write through the night
Or catch up in the morning
Always a dilemma
‘Round midnight.
I’m sleepy.

#micropoetry

Jan 31/14
Car doors slam
Voices raise
An alarm is sounding.
Or is that my head
pounding?
Damn you 4:30 AM.
This girl needs sleep.

#micropoetry #tired.

Jan 31/14
You are my moon-
Inconstant
Changeable
Variable.
Always a present force.

#micropoetry #CrazyAboutYou

Jan 31/14
You are the penny on the tracks
That derails my train of thought.

#micropoetry

Jan 31/14
My six tin soldiers
Now no longer my best friends.
Time to take a break?

wp.me/p4eeun-30

#micropoetry #TrueStory #MyBlog

Jan 31/14
Too tired
To write
Too much more
To you
Tonight

#micropoetry #yawn


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Randomz and plain stupidity

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backwards, forwards, sometimes sideways

in & out of sanity

so many reasons to empty my mind.

𝓡. 𝓐. 𝓓𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓵𝓪𝓼

𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚋𝚒𝚐! 𝙻𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛!

ANNIE'S MUSE

Whispers of Poetry

Eye Will Not Cry

"Eye Fly High"

annamosca

Poetic Landscapes Of The Spirit

A Blog to Regret

It's hard being a teenager, especially when you're 30

The One Himalayan Messiah

An effort by maintaining harmony and balance within life to attain continous improvement - Y2K

jimibodansko

earthquakes and volcanoes .... jimibodansko@gmail.com

Demystifying The Universe

Trying arduously & enjoying in the process :)

ShakespearInLove <3

thoughts of a 20 something girl....