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I have been feeling nostalgic as of late.. nostalgic for these words and feelings which have since turned foreign to me. To love with a fragile heart is a dangerous game... Scared and fickle, still she upturns rocks whose affections lay hidden from her. Bold little thing. Far braver and more boisterous than I. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Those of you who know me might have heard me consider myself "undateable." No, this is not to say that I don't feel love. Quite the contrary, I feel love so deeply, too often to the point of self destruction. Since separating from my marriage, the last year and a half has incurred a period of immense introspection and growth for me. This time has taught me so much about the proper use of ego/self love versus intuitive empathy, and my ability to control how every situation affects me. I used to feel I was at the mercy of my emotions, blindly lead by these feelings whether they positively served me or not. "A walking, bleeding heart...

Let me be your mirror So I can reflect my favorite parts of you I know you struggle to see Disenchant you of your ego So you can find beauty even in every broken piece Mosaic, melancholy Your story is not that of fairy tales Eyes turned towards the sea With neither wind nor holes amidst your sails Calm waters, prepare for tumult and storm Nourishing secret gardens, You'd rather walk amongst your thorns Taste of sweetest nectar Kept hidden like Eden's lush They try to drown themselves in your fruitful touch You question your ability to trust The fragility of yonic lust The stars have never been too big To satiate your captivated gaze Navigating this celestial maze Just to live amongst their haze Stardust fractal debris I wish that you could stay Gravitating towards me.. The way Moon dances in every phase Dark circles traced Spinning nights into daze I am the ocean calm rippling at the sight Of your beauty, So close lingering in the sky I could almos...

He wanted my Light, Then covered his face in the presence of my shadow.. Realizing mine was a mere reflection of his own. That he was the sun burning up in glory, and I was a thief in the night, awake to tell his story.

I feel myself transforming into something I've never seen before, both radiant and resilient.. Like bioluminescence, a spectrum of light evolved to exist in the depths of complete darkness. - @rs.darko

Alone with my thoughts Smokey scope from mental gunshots Still resounding off the table tops covered in all of our unfinished conversations.. Familiar sensations grow from familiar self-hatred Glass house inhabitant, but I still throw rocks