Miss Understood:
You speak clearly,
They fail to comprehend.
If you’re on a higher level,
No need to shout down.
Poetry. Photography. Thoughts On The Way Of Things.
Miss Understood:
You speak clearly,
They fail to comprehend.
If you’re on a higher level,
No need to shout down.
Distant from fluorescent notifications
Away from the
“You can’t, you won’t”
We see ourselves
And like what we see.
When the wind whispers,
Listen.
Feel the cold breath of the sky against your skin,
And hear it tell
Of how you are loved.
Be unafraid to stand tall,
Submission is not a virtue.
The year can be yours,
If you make it.
When they tell you what’s best
Push back.
There’s everywhere to go
Besides up.
Remember the whispers under linen,
Hot breath on warm skin,
The flutter of that final touch.
You are impossible to forget,
I wish I could say the same.
A room was never so empty.
Echoes cling to stone walls,
A fading lullaby of frigid rock.
I cloud the surface,
And trace my future in it.
The sharp sting of ice,
made liquid with your warm words.
Melt it all.
Reveal the unyielding marble
below.
They don’t like it when you rise
too close.
“slow down, you’re bossy.
no one will like you.”
But voices fade to insignificant whispers.
Soar on
Find your sunburst horizon.
We’re all textured
Like windswept wood.
Sharp and ancient
Dangerous and stable
Waiting to be shaped
Prepared to burn.