Just a dash of humor

My thoughts, my life, me.

My brain is on fire and my heart is alive with the songs of 10,000 poets. 

My soul breathes stars and my fingertips dance. 

I no longer inhabit this world. 

I live between the lines. 

In the ink. 

For none to capture. 

Untitled

When my final breath exits my body. 

When I am no longer chained to this earth. 

When my soul has been set free. 

Search my words. 

You’ll find me there, 

in the must and ink. 

And it is there, 

I will live on. 

Suddenly I could see the courage and beauty pressed into him like a hand print. His mother was present in far more than his beautiful smile, but in his compassion, his desire to do anything for another. His father was more than his wide shoulders and his blue eyes, but in the fierce protector I knew who would lay down his life for me at a moments notice. In that moment I was humbled by the wave of love that sloshed over me. He was all I wanted and all I needed. Being with him changed me. He made me better, more. 

Worthy

My collar bones are buried beneath my skin. 

My stretch marks are scars scratched around my body. 

My jean size will never read “2.”

Oh but I am worthy. 

Of love. 

Of light. 

Of laughter and good books and good friends. 

Of the joys in this life that touch everything. 

And when the enemy attacks. 

I will forge a sword from these words and fight. 

I am worthy. I am worthy. 

About reading

Often, when I include reading as one of my favorite hobbies, I am almost instantaneously labeled as a smart, introvert, or a holier-than-thou, jerk. I don’t read because I don’t have any friends and I sure as hell don’t read because I’m shy, and I don’t read because I’m better than anybody. I read because it makes me a better human being in general. The reason we write, the reason we create stories is to see each other more clearly. When we indulge in books, we find stories of others. We understand their lives, their needs, their wants, and we become more open, more tolerant people. I read because I do not want to remain a shallow, ignorant, shell but rather a full, whole, person. I desire to do know others and for them to know me and that is why I read. When people choose to write they destroy every barrier between themselves and the rest of the world, they pull their hearts from their chests and show them, beating to the rest of the world. I read because it made me who I am and will make me who I am meant to be.