Symphony

You liked my song you said,  the way the notes would curl out of my throat,   whisper through you and beg the goosebumps to rise on your skin send whispers down your spine,  making you whimper with suppressed need for me,  for my touch on your soul and the burn of my love in your heart

You hurt me

So much and that was suprising because the hurt was the first tell tale sign that i had fallen,  where i thought my pride was holding  my spine up nose up am too cold hearted to feel the warmth you seem to radiate when we are together.  I seem addicted to your touch and now that we are   are not touching anymore the only symphony i hear in my head is the cracking of my cold heart. 

Daily prompt:symphony 

Release

I seek to avenge all these tiny cuts in my soul that bleed out my hopes and dreams in short spurts of foaming memory every time i have to think of all i havent achieved or all ‘they’  have achieved  and the possibility of living my life drifting from work day to work day making another rich or happy or better or being  nothing more than i am a body behind a desk infront of a computer 

I want to walk on a silver shore and feel the warm  sand between my toes or chase beautiful sunsets with my yatch or seek treasures long lost at sea i mean maybe i could be a pirate and never set foot on land again where all my expectations and everyone else’s is left buried  in  a shallow grave as my last heritage to my sea born daughters a reason to find their way back home 

Daily post:- bury

Queenin’ on my scars

See here,  

Recently i started this journey that scared the heck out of me. 

I am living alone.  In my own house. Paying my own rent. 

And i looove itπŸ˜€πŸ˜€πŸ˜€

Am i still scared yes. Out of my mind.  

But our GOOD GOD just calmed my fear,  there i was standing  at the edge of the cliff my eyes closed,  my knees trembling, palms sweaty,  and He being as hilarious as He is,   just pushed me.  He made it so that it was impossible for me to stand there,  and keep thinking about how far the fall is how sharp the rocks  look at my feet,  how comfortable i was at the edge,  just standing there,  contemplating,  never really planning on jumping. 

I realize now,  how silly i was being,  claiming to love the Father yet scared of being His child,  truly,  in all senses of the word, thinking HE is like human beings who you  cant trust with keeping your cat company for a day,  let alone with your life. 

But am learning everyday. It is like i discover all these good and wonderful things about me that i didnt even know i am or i had .  I am learning patience,  and trust. And best of all Love for me,  my mistakes and my scars. 

Am queenin’ on my scars😊

Paper cuts

I have these little numb sores on my soul that only hurt when i remember,  or fixate so much on the hurt that once was,  or try to peel back the layers and see underneath the pain trying to find some sort of carthasis on penning my thoughts here or mostly when am scrolling down my timeline and a happy photo of you makes me sad because really?  How can you  be so ok with not having me there. 

I swear to myself that i have forgotten,  in all honesty i have forgotten thoughts of you dont haunt my day,  shadows of your laugh dont stalk my nights i am totally  ok with us not talking,  or you not calling or whatever, i am fine really,  and not in that way that i say fine yet mean i want to murder every single pain and humiliation you  ever caused me,  am still stuck here in wondering why i let you warm my heart which beats in frozen paces how could i walk right into what was obviously  going nowhere . 

How did you leave paper cuts on me and i didnt even see me bleeding

Daily post paper

Nemesis

See how her feet leave prints on the sand,  how her lipstick leaves an imprint of her lips on a wine glass,  how when she dips her hands in paint she can make impressions of her fingers,  how she has an imprint of your lips on every surface of her skin they touched,  how if she concentrates hard enough, she can feel the warmth of your skin,  the lingering musk of you so close,  so close..

You should know then,  what marks,  impression  you leave behind, how she has mastered your breathing patterns,  how she knows when  you are angry or tired or loved,  how she knows what every scowl  means,  every grunt every smile.

How she wishes she could heal you,  even though she knows she cant.

Daily prompt: impression  

Kalmatuz III- blue monkey dines with her father

Father stands staring outside at the trees. 

“He failed us!” He bellows from his spot at the window,  back arched proudly, head turned away from blue monkey who was kneeling behind  him. If she could lift her head she would see the white tears that were  leaving a scar on his rugged face,  or the way his chest heaved in sorrow,  another son lost,  another battle lost.  He was tired of the meaningless loss of his children,  his sons,  arrows in his quiver thrown at nothing. His last son was only twelve harvest  moons old.  He couldnt risk him. He wouldn’t  risk him.

“Father,…” The words of comfort chocked her,  her icy anger still  a lump in her  throat.

“Send me..” She whispered

“No!?!..” Father turned around angrily,  the dark sheep skin he wore almost falling off his shoulders,  he limped,  towards his first daughter,  towering above her,  fist drawn back as if to strike her.  But he stayed his hand and brought it down gently instead ,  touching her head.  She whimpers in surprise.

“You cannot go, “he tries so hard to control the anger in his  voice., “i will not let those bastards,  mock me anymore,  i will not send my daughter into battle,  you are to stay here and rule and birth a daughter who will rule after you.”

Blue monkey rises angrily,  and steps back a screech dying in her throat at the sight of father’s  tears.

“He was my brother,”  she whispers, “he was my  baby brother i raised him and gave him his first arrow,  i taught him to hunt and i will avenge him..”

LA LA LA land

Here goes my unadulterated  opinion of the greatest musical in the history of all musicals.

Love is a farce,  and all that you think love should be,  it isn’t.  Love is patient,  love is kind love is slowly loosing your mind,  love is death.  Because without death there can’t be love.

Love is open windows on rainy nights to let the thunder in,  love is pillow fights and burnt food and broken music records.  Love is all your beliefs brought  low because  beliefs never become reality.

Love is a musical you loved that didn’t end how you expected.

Word prints for Daily prompt: -farce

Kalmatuz II- silver monkey dies

..

“Noooo,!” Screams the blue monkey running on all fours towards the prone figure of the silver monkey.  She stops besides the body and takes his head on her hands,  daring him to breathe,  begging him to move.  Silver monkey opens his glazed over eyes and stares  at her,  she is crying wildly her screams echoing through the valley and bouncing back to her.  Silver monkey closes his eyes  the blood from his wound turning black as soon as it hits the ground,  the black spreading  all around them as if an ulcer,killing all the green from the grass.  Kalamatuz abhors murder. Any innocent blood dropped on the valley turns toxic,  killing everything on site. 

Blue monkey drops silver monkeys head and shuffles back,  moving away from the toxic blood,  her screams still loud and painful as if wrenched  from her very soul. She beats her chest and roars,  pulls the fur from her arms and head and dances around the silver monkey,  now thumping her chest now swinging on her fore arms. She keeps up this ritual for a while until all the life essence drains from silver monkey and the place where he once lay is nothing but charred earth and a lonely spear.

She drops next to the burnt earth,  exhausted,  her tears spent. She lies down staring at the spot where her brother once lay,  and with every breath she took,  her pain crystallized into anger then icy revenge,  she lay there until her heart froze over in her chest.

“I must go to father..” She whispered 

I love, I dance

What do you see when you look at me? Forget my eyes or the color of my skin or my tiny nose, what so you see? Do you see this facade that I have created or can you see a bit more? Can you see my soul reflected in the depth of my eyes, can you see my scars, can you see my tears?can you see my pride, my strength, or are you like the rest, satisfied with the superficial. What do you see, what can you see? Do my secret smiles entice you? Do you wonder when you look at me why I am as I am, or do you see the stubborn woman that everyone else sees,. 

How can you not question the a thousand galaxies in my head how can you see me clothe and jewelry and hair and be satisfied, how could you not want to know about my dreams and what keeps me up, about what makes me cry because I assure you its preety much everything. Why can’t you ask, about my roots? Arent you even in the least bit curious?

I love and I dance and I sing, whether in the shower or the streets or in my head, I laugh and I cry and I care to the depths of the ocean and the width of infinite galaxies am more than the labels you peg on me, daughter, girlfriend, sister, workmate, friend, I learn, and I hurt and I hurt other people am human and angel and broken but not too much because despite your perception of me I still love and I still dance.