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i.
minutes stretching into hours of blue with the warmth of Summer like a glove, I walked my shadow, phantom light through the gloom, found old paths and laid new ones.
ii.
black keys and white in translation, years aloft on the breeze, these notes, information, Iβve been saying, life is in you.
iii.
the past fading into flow, says, i waited here for you.
The Hardest Book To Understand...
I love it when literature touches me, when it reaches my bones. It doesn't matter if it's in a pleasurable way or a horrifying way, either way it's satisfying.
It's a journey of 100 miles. Begins with a single step.
βHealing is layers. Healing is time. Healing is excruciating. Once you think itβs done, itβs not.β
β Mary DeMuth
πππ
βBe willing to go alone sometimes. You donβt need permission to grow. Not everyone who started with you will finish with you. And thatβs OK.β
β Unknown
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π
Inconspicuous, sheβs a chameleon who blends in wherever sheβs at,Β though her authenticity is never hidden she shies away from filters shining with her genuine self which often softens her glowΒ in the ostentatious crowd
Once in a while, the right ones come along the ones who notice her light and what they see is one-of-a-kind coruscating in the throng of fabrication
She is truth spoken to the unblind
π€π€π€
"so this shall be my suffocating vow"
I could cast all my forgivenesses into the air and watch them take flight, dispersing wherever they belong, wherever they are needed, but they are already flowing β freely.
Open-arm-surrender to the vast sky,
I am a confession
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β relinquished,
vibrant in the coursing of my inner circuitry, heartβs sanctum, a sanctuary cleansed
in lachrymose penance.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β This weaving of sounds Β Β Β Β Β Β Β and silence, this staccato of gears and engines, Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β and bird call solace, balsamic, Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β all folds
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β into balance.
Β© Anna S. 2022