It’s you I’m thinking of
Of Mutability
It’s you I’m thinking of
Of Mutability
Maybe the wolf is in love with the moon, and each month it cries
for a love it will never reach.
When the layers subside
and the fortune is empty,
the pigment of our days
will echo pure
and I will be nowhere
if not with you.
Do you really think God will forgive me for the blood on my hands, even if my soul was free? I’m going to hell no matter what happens. Let me have my pathetic hopeless love while I can. Just – let me pretend it will turn out all right.
Lament: The Faerie Queen’s Deception
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere,
they’re within each other all along.
I wear his name on my tongue
with pride,
and his scent on my skin
with arrogance
As if you were
on fire
from within,
the moon lives
in the lining
of your skin.
I am made
of the poetry
my fingertips
bleed.
Untouched by love,
tainted by heartache.
The beauty in his purity –
Oh, it takes my breath away.
The people we surround ourselves with either raise or lower our standards. They either help us to become the-best-version-of-ourselves or encourage us to become lesser versions of ourselves. We become like our friends. No man becomes great on his own. No woman becomes great on her own. The people around them help to make them great.
We all need people in our lives who raise our standards, remind us of our essential purpose, and challenge us to become the-best-version-of-ourselves.
The Rhythm of Life