(Source: flawlesszooey)
(Source: heartsofmichelle)
(via urbanoutfitters)
(Source: greekg0ds, via ezerkenegdo)
(via ezerkenegdo)
Hellebores
Planted in summer.
Dormant in heat.
Watered and nurtured
without a peep.
.
Neighbors gossip
and lovers creep.
Talk of why the
seeds still sleep.
.
Summer passes
and flowers die.
Neighbors trim
and lovers cry.
.
In the crispness
of winter snow,
taut green shoots
break from limbo.
Winter.
Somewhere in the scope of the entire universe a lone soul is experiencing life from a perspective his eyes can only see. The cold wind blows and whips around the silhouette of his shrunken form; he makes his way through the thickness of earth’s furious flurries. White against black, it seems as if the entirety of his universe is in opposition to each heavily placed step.
.
As I placed my hand upon a frosted rail, my eyes surveyed the scene. These eyes beheld a town encased in ice. Clouds of fog embraced the frigid landscape like silent ghosts. On, my right was a park lit dimly with golden street lamps. Gusts of wind sprayed icy needles across my lips. Wincing, I glanced to my left to see shadowy figures exiting a neon-lit bar.
.
Something burned me like a lit cigarette thrown from a passing carefree car window. Born out of a feeling and a memory, I found myself in the center of an introverted landscape. It had been carefully crafted out of hundreds of hours of personal questions. I was the accused. I was the inquisitor. I had become a sculpture of my own landscape. Stuck in ice.
2 Corinth 10:5
“Casting down imaginations; and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ.”
Prayer.
Hand on heart.
Let’s trade.
I’ll take yours.
and give you mine.
.
This space is empty
a wasteland of the body
a gap worth breaching
a hole almost breaking
.
Take all that I am.
Go with me to the the waters
help me cast the stones.
For you said no one will remember
them at the bottom of the sea.
