Life and its living, brings me to my knees every time.
Still fighting to stay free and survive,
I walk the line between reckless and carefree.
The chaos of the day blows like a hurricane through my mind,
I close my eyes — and can’t tell what/if I’m dreaming.
This adventure is a wild one, like running with wolves
and falling into you — a tainted romance with intentions that are cruel.
The struggle seems endless,
empty pockets and empty bellies, stacks of bills and unpaid rent.
Too often, my heart is sucked right out of my chest.
Then, outside my window
I watch the magnificence of the sunrise
and know at once — I’m too blessed to be stressed.
My canvas is covered in rainbows and dark clouds,
this ephemeral experience is a weird arse trip,
filling my mind like a cavern full of dirty tricks.
I trip over baggage of bad habits and selfish exes.
Being human is a live work of art,
the Universe spilled us out — but now we’ve drifted so far.
Who are we?
Perhaps we’re all sleepers just talking out loud.
Our reflections are uniquely flawed and covered in scars,
full of intricate details of our mystery/her-story/history.
Being human is a dark fairy tale full of highlights.
I feel like a tiny caterpillar with the soul of a butterfly.
My love is a ray of light.
All of my dreams — star the sky.
Mine is to hold onto my own heart strings,
remembering — I was cut from the night.
I hold out for the Sun to set,
let the night awaken inside and tend to me.
As the Moon appears and spills in through my rib cage —
I’m flooded with wonder.
I am becoming my own lighthouse, unlearning old ways of thinking.
I’m feeling my way around, leading me through the dark
as the Moon holds my hand — in search of my own North star.