Log in


What is that?
That smell... no, it's a scent...
Hairs raised
Pupils, dilated
It's intoxicating, but damaged
I can sense the broken
so clear and profound.
The stench of death imminent.
The spirit says
"Leave it to die, it's sick...
this is the kind of illness that will
blow your cover.
Turn away, leave this one for Gaia.
If you feast on it,
you'll never lose the scent
and you'll find yourself prey.
There will be a better feast elsewhere."
Keenly aware
Senses hightened
The prey cries out
- my stomach echoes.

Wolves Howling in the Night

Skeptical, cynical, and perhaps a bit jaded...
My wounded heart protecting with
walls rebuilt, yet circumstamces demand
A short walk outside.

A kind smile, a warm embrace, welcoming energy
A sufficient potion to convince me
This was a safe place
Even if there were opportunities for pain.

Walking hand in hand, arms interlocked in support
A sense of confidence grew
Boldly, quickly, encouraging me to forget my walls
And try, just once more, to feel something

My efforts were noted,
And so the stars aligned to provide a grand opportunity
To dance with the spirits
In a way that would require strength
Stretching and growing past those walls
And i took it.

Uncertain but open
On sacred ground i stood with my kindred spirits
Encantations chanted,
And language left me.

The pulse began, filling the room
Replacing uncertainty and fear
With strength and confidence
And as the hooks were placed into flesh
The tribe grew stronger.

Feeding and pulling and dancing
Dances sacred yet profane
Predator, prey, these primal games
Ancestors proud overseers

As i danced and pulled
Cracks formed deep in the walls of my heart
And when the wall broke
All my demons eacaped
Tears, shrieks turned screams,
Echoed from the tribe

Joy, love, support
Filled the void
where the pain and hurt was kept
Cleansing waters left their marks
My "war paint" worn proudly

I still hear the echos of my tribe
Howling with me in that time
And i understand better now
Why wolves howl in the night.

2015-01-18 17.37.15

You made pink beautiful to me

Ha, what do You think I am?
I am a warrior.  A survivor.  A strong, independent woman... capable of many great things in life.
Not some delicate girl, some fragile thing - nor do I want to flag that way.
I don't want to be seen as vain, either.  Self-absorbed, as pink is.

However, You're in charge.
So, pink it is...

...because you see me.

You see past the walls, past the shields, past the armor.
You see the girl inside.
You want me to know that with You, I can have pink.
You want me to embrace my femininity,
my fragility,
my simple beauty,
and how delicate I can be... when my walls are down.

You want me to know that You value the girl inside the armor.
That I am beautiful even when I am weak,
and that You want to be there for me when I am.

Your gift of Pink tells me I am worthy of having those moments,
of a complete human existence,
good and bad,
and we can celebrate all of it.

It is a reminder that when I am out in the world,
being a warrior, being a survivor
being a strong, independent, and capable woman,
that You see me as complete,
valued as whole,
and worthy.

what what?

well hello there... 

Latest Month

July 2015


RSS Atom
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Lilia Ahner