a little bit of a resurrection
my life journal: cutmedown








lucid prayers


that when the wave hit the shore, freedom would be a bird that we all knew. on a flight of fancy, as a feather sailing through a warm wind. let us know grace.

a wise man speaks of virtue. tolerance, self-control in the wake of a deep, red rose. know, that when you prick your finger on that very last thorn, i will be there to catch the scarlet droplet of blood.

all that i am is kindness & shame, wrapped into a package so tightly that not even oxygen can breathe & when the blood hits the air, it does not turn red, for the lack of.

sugar snowflakes on a hot summer day & those hot summer ways.


written on 2003-06-29 at 3:00 a.m.

she / lost