getting put into an induced coma until the vibes are right
Edvard Munch, Trøst (Consolation), 1894
Drypoint printed in black ink on cream wove paper, 8 ½ × 12 ½ in.
trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.
Poem #2
Last night I left my body
My soul was finally free. I swayed in the wind and danced beneath the trees. The air whispered in my ear and told me it was time to leave. So that's what I did and now I am free. I don't want to be trapped in this body. I want my soul to fly free. So here I am. Lost beneath the trees. My soul left my body in an attempt to flee, but I know In the morning back to my body I'll be. As I sit in life I wait for night to come. So once again I can dance beneath the trees. This night was different. I chose my end. And now my soul will be free for all eternity. Next time you feel the wind dancing through your hair. You will know it's me. Don't be sad because I am finally free.
My Poem
I was only a child then
Shuttering in my cold and broken heart
A tempest of snow under a darkening sky
And I stumbled there stumbled and fell
Allowing the sleep to take me into its warm embrace
But I did not sleep. I did not rest
For the ink spatters grew near
To see what lay dying there
One whispered to me,”child? Do you breathe?”
The other pecked at my blue hand.
“Child open those eyes. Let me see into you.”
“Too tired. Too hurt. Let the darkness warm me.”
“No child! For you can stop this storm. Now Open your eyes and let your fire burn.”
— Marley C. // time..
things that are always beautiful now matter how bad things are
- sunsets
- stranger’s smiles
- roses
- people reuniting at the airport
- the smell of books
- the euphoria you get when you’re way past tired
- butterflies
- hugs
- the sparkle in someone’s eyes when they talk about something they love
- rainbows
- the first bite of a meal you’ve been looking forward to
- when you listen to a song you’ve never heard before and just feel it
- dogs
Reason to Live #3242
For the small moments of joy when everything’s just fine. – Guest Submission
(Please don’t add negative comments to these posts.)
Guess who's falling apart again.
“[…] I must dream myself back in to my own world […]”
— Virginia Woolf, diary entry dated 15 July, 1935
ig: laurexon
Belle Mead, New Jersey
1730

