I dare to close my eyes,
to be still and content,
despite the blackness,
threatening ascent,
almost instantaneously,
feeling rapid descent,
but it’s not black,
where was I sent?
it’s all so bold,
and lines are bent,
in technicolor,
with vivid accent,
non-linear and sharp,
the not-shapes torment,
rippling hues spinning,
a vortex of dissent,
hands and fingers paw at me,
a sea of malcontent,
this sensory kaleidoscope,
I’m overwhelmed, spent,
rapid breath in all blues,
but it’s stuck like cement,
I can’t feel my skin,
is this going to relent?
am I still sleeping?
where have I went?
if this is dreaming,
I don’t give my consent,
bring back the blackness,
this is not what I meant

-image via Pinterest, The end of yesterday by Delira


Bringers of the Light

some would say we’re too sensitive
call us sissies or say we’re too frail
some would call us drama queens 
and erect walls for us to scale

some would say we’re broken 
angles and edges that just don’t fit
but I see cracks made by growth
where love was free to sift

I see expression, fearlessly 
when some wish to tuck it away
truth tellers in a world of omission
seekers, willing to bend and fray

because, we aren’t afraid of darkness
for our hearts shine too bright
and we have the most amazing job –
we are the bringers of the light

-image via free lighthiuse wallpapers