Once she was a caterpillar who consumed but leaves.
Bumbling about life, praying to make it to tomorrow.
She hummed a song of trust that did not need words.
Instinctively knowing that the universe would give her strength to make it to see tomorrow’s day.
When the time came, she made her cocoon out of silk.
Building her home under the ghost of a rose.
Here she lay in her state of metamorphosis.
Body decomposing as silk petals wilted.
Flesh fading as the color turned to grey.
Every night she would prey.
Body vulnerable, displayed naked before the world.
With but the thorns of her rose protector as her sword and shield… she would be victorious.
Her she would make her most magickal transformation of all.
Wings bent and stiff, drying from abuse.
Blooming forth, with colors of vibrancy.
A beauty so bright that God himself cried upon sight.
Rising form the dead, the goddess did not wilt, nor crumble.
Alive with an appetite and hunger for life… she took a moment to breath.
The iron rose that protected her from harm now set her free.
Wings stretched out with pride and dignity… the queen took to the sky.
Sometimes she would return to her favorite garden, to sip nectar from his sweet embrace.
Giving thanks to the iron rose who had provided safety during her time of growth.
Yet she was no longer bound to his cage, and she would always fly free.
Knowing that no force in the universe could clip her wings.
Not even God can stop her now.
Tag / Photography
Tinkerbell leaves home
Tinkerbell leaves home
We met in the land of make believe, together we traveled across the seven seas.
My heart and soul set free from responsibility, and all things tethered to reality.
My wings were young, my heart was old. I wanted nothing more than to be your soul…mate.
We spent years together or was it only a blink in time.
Reality slowly unraveled, as you pulled the strings of my mind.
False reality, founded upon unrealistic dreams.
Here in never ever land all is not what it seems.
Bound to fantasy we danced in the wild.
Youthful bliss, the insanity of a child.
My heart sought the man I wanted you to be…
Yet that again was false reality… otherwise known as insanity.
You were a lost boy, forever a child at heart.
And I knew then we would eventually part.
The boy who cried wolf… I now see through the lies.
I spread my wings and took to the sky.
Fairy dust trailed under wing.
Unsure of what the real world would bring.
Leaving the boy, who refused to be a man behind.
Rebuilding my world one breath at a time.
I lived with you in a world of false reality.
All because I took your hand.
Together we rode upon your broken wings as you swept me away to never ever land.
The glass cracked, and reality bled through.
I opened my eyes, and I was alone… and had been so all along.
Fear, betrayal, bitterness and of course contempt.
These emotions are dark as the night, and they poisoned my soul.
Sick, desperate, and festering with fear I ventured into the depths of hell.
Down beneath the ground, where the flames burn hot, I saw his face.
The devil, like you my dear promised me lies.
With my remaining strength I punched the devil in the face and stabbed him in his darkened heart.
I swore that day to never fall for such temptation again.
Growing up is part of life, some say the most painful part of all.
I want to say it happens to everyone, but that too is a delusion.
Many like I run away to never ever land where youth is eternally sipped from a goblet of false dreams.
There is a price tag for such is insanity so drink it wisely or perhaps it is better not to not indulge at all.
Doing your work is messy.
It’s not for the faint of heart.
Fluids are everywhere.
Tears and sweat.
But it’s worth the pain.
The rehashing of the scars and resetting of the bones.
In order to heal.
Some days are better than others.
It is not all grey clouds.
What has helped me is appreciation.
Cognitive behavior to retrain the insane of the brain.
Most of the time if I can keep this train of thought the cloud of grey comes to pass within a few minuets.
Life goes on.
Last thought before put the pen down, and this one is really important.
The things people don’t really talk about and keep buried in that little black box… those are the most important mementos of growth.