I don’t even think about you anymore; You’re more a fleeting thought or a passing memory these days; And even scrolling past a picture of us or you doesn’t hit my heart as hard as it once did – Now I’m just… grateful, and wish you the best. My scars are healing and the triggers …
I think I’m ready now to face down my shadows; The ones that burrow deep and that I attempt to run and hide from even in my sleep. I’m not afraid of what they’ll reveal, not even fearful of what they’ll make me feel. I don’t worry about how they’ve marred my soul – I determined long …
…because that’s not who you are… But it’s who I can be if you just let me and acknowledge, as I do, that I’m still growing, always growing – and I won’t stop until I’ve transcended even myself. 052921
Other people’s writings are better than mine; Yes, it’s true. Undeniably better – still I write, not in hopes I’ll ever be similar, Only because my self-expression is a primary lifeline – Buoy in the mercurial seas of uncertain chaos.
Digging into the dusty depths of my memory To unearth some detail of sudden recall… Remembering where I put a thing I had years ago, and wondering if I should still have it after all this time. I think that If we kept things as long as we keep memories, Maybe we’d all have more …
I’ve learned to be the kind of friend to myself that I want to have. How I treat myself is how I’ll treat others and how they’ll treat me in kind. My self-compassion could make me a selfless companion. I grow more when I know more about myself. I’m always learning… 15 October 2019
I fear I’ve messed this all up – This life thing, It doesn’t feel like I’m doing it quite right. I’m always just… Too every bit of the wrong things, too intense, too awkward; too passionate, too aggressive. Too full of words, too not enough. I don’t know how to fix it, make it better… is it only my own …
And ain’t I just a woman? Not stereotype, not stigma – without suppressed energy and abandoned passions, just woman? Ain’t I just… Her, one who has no qualms, no regrets, just free to be exactly who I am, unequivocally? Should I not align with other stars of my ilk, and should I not seek all …
All our perception of Bad really is is just Good, misunderstood.
I braid life into my hair – each length I add [is] potential, no telling how far I’ll grow.
True wealth is the wealth of the soul
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
A collective of thoughts, poetry, writing works, blurbs, and other randomosity
BUZZWEED QUIZZES
Art Studio Dumfriesshire
Kayfucius 
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