Going to sleep with the amazing sounds of heavy rain and wind…#Personal
…I lost myself to him
and laid my face upon my lover’s breast…
Loreena McKennitt- The Dark Night of the Soul
And care and grief grew dim as in the morning’s mist became the light
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair…
…Here is my heart and I give it to you
Take me with you across this land
These are my dreams, so simple and few
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands…
Never-Ending Road (Amhrán Duit)
Get up and Try….
I hate it when people say the miss you but they don’t make a single fucking effort to spend time with you!!!!!!
Had this almost my entire life.
Why are veins on a butterfly’s wings beautiful
and arteries on a fallen leaf’s skin healthy,
but the pulsing blue around my calves
warrants self-loathing and suffocation?
Why is a wrinkle precious as it
cuts through the heart of willow trees
or weaves gently through the canyon
in rippling purple river waves,
but the crevices that curl at the ends of my lips
deserve harsh chemical creams
and venomous tears?
Why is the belly of a fattened raincloud
the left arm of God’s glory
and the bulge of cherry blossoms
the artist’s favorite muse,
but I have fantasies about spilling blood
and swallowing tundra
to eradicate the pocket of flesh
around my waist?
Why is it that the earth is allowed
to be beautiful the way it was born
but a woman is not?