Their pain
it didn’t belong to her,
yet it did.
She carried it everywhere.
Some days it was heavy
…most days it was not.

and so it was,
that,
when the moon had finally fled,
she had woven their pain
into sunny flowers.

Their pain
it didn’t belong to her,
yet it did.
…it had always been this way.

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Your glass was always full
with all the wrong things.
It seemed you could
only ever live your life that way.
…standing on the edge.

Stay warm now.
I will miss you
as only your sister can.
If you had stayed
perhaps you would be laughing now,
knowing that life is really
just all the things that fall at our feet…

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I am not sure you will ever understand how incredibly blessed I feel.

By glowing upon me, you taught me to unconsciously take a chance, be brave and be willing to grow back.

It’s not easy
this willingness to meet myself.
But,
in between loving you
I go there,
to see who I am
to unwrap
those hidden parts of me
that will make us better.

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Caressing your face
my skin holds your memories.
It feels like sunlight
shooting soft arrows
of warmth through my heart.

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You are here
in my dream.
It is the only place 
I can find you now.
Surrounded by intangible memories
my nakedness grows cold.

Love more than anything 
continues to be my teacher…

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She wanted the ocean to wash over her.
She wanted it to take her apart,
She wanted it to tear her into tiny pieces,
so that her body 
felt like her heart…
misaligned and frayed.

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Some people
occupy a space –
yet they don’t.

Like empty vessels
they float with
no intention
of ever making
it to shore.

They are never in way too deep.
Standing still –
is what they do.

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I forgave you.

I held your hand,
– you couldn’t find peace.
you gasped…
you clung to your breath,
until we both choked upon it.

When you finally let go
I allowed my suffering to
be your companion.

This memory is a gift
– never again,
will darkness swallow me
from behind.

As death took your hand
It wasn’t right,
but I was the one
who found peace… x

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You squeeze my heart 
so deliciously 
that I have no 
need of memories.

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When darkness comes,
the stars bleed into me
and together we fill
the holes in the sky.

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My fingers linger
over the soft curve
at the base of your spine.
They like being there
where it feels like sunlight.

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Our skin collided
swallowing my scars,
until I could no longer see
where they had been…

 

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I love words – like kisses they are delicious and free.
Yet are they enough? Today a friend of mine asked me my interpretation of a message she received…
which of course led me to ponder…
We can say words, write the words, deliver words, interpret words, but how do we know if the writer is authentically feeling the words, living the words and acting the words? Or is it simply that our minds always seek more, are we conditioned to continually look for more depth, ulterior motives.. less simplicity even in words.
Are words not capable of standing on their own and meaning what they say? I think that maybe they are….But, only if they come from a place of integrity and from the heart. Therein lies our dilemma – how do we really know ??? Alone and unaccompanied they are just words – it is we, who must breathe life into them. It is we, who can deliver them and make them dance.
So in the end, all I could offer her was Osho’s wisdom- “words are like flowers and the meaning is like the fragrance. I can give you the flower but I cannot give you the fragrance.”
Perhaps we can all try to say our words with kindness, integrity and heart so that others can find fragrance.
Even if it is only for one moment – every one of us can be that person who brings perfume to the world.
Namaste x

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You don’t fit your shadow.
It looms beside you
like a black dog,
whispering
as you move.

Incongruent… 

Mismatched…

With a trajectory of its own,
it can’t compete with
the stars in your pockets.

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I think some people,
collect tears and pain
to fill the empty spaces.

I think some people
completely fill themselves,
to ensure that
they can never be found.

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Like letting go
of dead skin
… leaves fall.

Leaving behind
my naked bones,
soft and worn
by time.

Stripped bare,
the winds touch
is so much sweeter.

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