I will sing to you a lullaby

I will sing it all away.

I will sing to you a lullaby

I will sing for you to stay.

The Nightman

A reflection is a reflection of who you are. But is the mirror conspiracy true? Who is the face staring back at you, and is it the same person others see? Sometimes, maybe. Identity is a funny word, an interesting state of being. How is it that image can define us, categorize us?

A tweak of the eyeliner, a new hair color, all of a sudden you transform, recreating, reinventing into a newer version of you. But underneath all the layers of clothes, jewelry, face-paint, we are vulnerable, impressionable, scared. Scared of what we will see in that echoing glass once stripped of all that conceals and compliments us.

The reflection in the mirror is who we are when alone. That one-on-one solitude. Those eyes that know you better than you know yourself, telling you it knows your deepest secrets, knows your darkest fears. Trapped in its inverse universe, always watching, always imitating your every move. Who is real, and who is following who on the other side of the mirror?

stepping stones

Life is never what you expect it to be.

One day you're young, dumb, and innocent;

Next, you're maturing, aging, living.

At times I look to life for answers,

as if it were going to tell me.

I would ask if it was proud of me.

Everything hurts.

everything.

au revior

deleting is exhausting

when it rains, it pours.

This

is

how

we

breathe

underwater.

a wasteland

And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you:
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

T. S. Eliot

a little help

God,

Grant me the serenity to accept

the things I cannot change,

Courage to change the things I can,

And wisdom to know the difference.

a stranger's heart without a home

I want to hold the hand inside you

I want to take a breath that's true

I look to you and I see nothing

I look to you to see the truth

what lurks in the night

don't look back girl

nature of the beast

Red sun rising in the sky
Sleeping village, cockerels cry
Soft breeze blowing in the trees
peace of mind, feel at ease

i think i'm dumb

A magnet is a material or object that produces a magnetic field.

This magnetic field is invisible but is responsible for the most notable property of a magnet:

a force that pulls on, attracts, or repels other magnets.

a siren's song

You keepin on a holdin',
 A-holdin' on a-keepin,
 No giving into taking more but still still feedin',
 You're clearly disturbed,
 All you want is allegiance 
 Hear them what you saw
 You hear them what you saw
 You hear them what you saw 
 You hear them with believin' 
 Oh holy holy water washing over the soul

happiness

it's the little things.

You think you've figured out everything.

You've said what you wanted to say.

I know my geography pretty damn well.

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,

And measles were nice and a lie warn't a lie,

Life would be delight,--

But things couldn't go right

For in such a sad plight

I wouldn't be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,

And past was present, and false was true,

There might be some sense

But I'd be in suspense

For on such a pretense

You wouldn't be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,

And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee

Things would seem fair,--

Yet they'd all despair,

For if here was there

We wouldn't be we.

where the sun don't ever shine

you can offer me escape

fire & ice

SAFE in their alabaster chambers, Untouched by morning and untouched by noon, Sleep the meek members of the resurrection, Rafter of satin, and roof of stone. Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine; Babbles the bee in a stolid ear; Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadence,— Ah, what sagacity perished here! Grand go the years in the crescent above them; Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row, Diadems drop and Doges surrender, Soundless as dots on a disk of snow.

an outlet.

Sometimes you have to let it out:

write it out, talk it out,

bleed it out,

scream it out, dare it out, truth it out,

breathe it out,

read it out, play it out, force it out,

run until you collapse it out,

pound your fist to a wall it out,

rip it out, scrape it out, mouth it out,

pull it out, paint it out,

close your eyes and dream it out,

“take the plunge” it out,

watch the mascara smear it out, black tears flowing it out,

lose your mind it out,

let go it out,

what’s the worse that could happen it out,

siphon it out, expel it out, sigh it out, laugh it out, truck it out, shake it out,

cheat it out,

but never hide it out, or black it out,

drown it out, recluse it out,

for you will never get it out.

--mxo

Plain was the same as it ever was the same.
Plainly plain...
Samely same...
But then...someone lit the flame.
Plain rode away on lion's mane.
Where plain met fruits with strangely names.
Such wonderful things they did contain.
A shot of life to a hungry vein.
The captive beast who broke the chain.
And there upon that fruited plane,
is where plain became what plain became.
So much more than more than plain.
Plain will never be the same.