#spilled prose

[memories-beneath-the-skin]

Overgrown vegetation, merging and intertwined with fallen trees and a collection of various debris have taken over the last remnants of a path few remember exist or seek to travel.

Pressing through hostile barriers from nature's natural reclaiming defenses, easy to become lost,the mind becomes tired and desire to turn around begins to burn through the thoughts that take up residence, evaporating the drive that feeds the expedition.

A catch in the throat, intake of breath held, reactions of first sight of the small patch of sloping roof, covered in the same moss that clings to the trees, had one failed to look in the right direction and know what to look for they would continue their journey like most and pass right by without knowing. Some structures naturally stay invisible to most.

Maybe we don't dare choose to see.

Pushing through to see the entire structure you realize it isn't what one typically has envisioned, the roof has caved in, decades of weather, lack of care and weakening weapon of time has taken its toll.

Windows opaque from dust, cracked in some places, spider lines of stress tenderly clinging to survive , others places gaping holes where glass once stood its ground, now laying in pieces unseen.

Your heart begins to slide into your chest, disappointment flushing across your mind, yet you move closer to the door. The one you have desired to open, the one that draws.

Trepidation, uncertainty as you reach for the doorknob, still firm in its wooden cradle, cold to the touch, a slight catch as you turn it and the slide mechanism fights from its home in the frame and you hear the click of release.

Pushing lightly, you feel resistance, years of life have blocked it's natural swinging arc of travel, hinges bind and once free scream with torment of performing the action, one that should be easy, one that they were designed but have seldom done.

Finger tips pause and linger, resting on the weathered worn wood exterior. Chipped surface varnish flaking into dust on the skin.

Should one bother a space this secluded,disturb it's solitude, a place so withdrawn and guarded from life?

What right does one have to allow their heart to beat, blood to flow, lungs to pull in air inside this uninvited space?

Maybe one will be disappointed what lies inside.

[wordsofaworld]

It is up to us to wake up

To realise we do not have that much time

We cannot keep waiting for next week

Next month

Next year

We must grab life by the throat

And savour every moment

Do as much as you can

Seek new places

Take silly pictures

Love with every fibre of your being

Take care of others

Make a goal and achieve it

Take risks

Stop worrying about money

Stop self-sabotaging yourself

Stop waiting for the wake up call

Be reminded everyday that you do not have all the time in the world to wait to start living.

[iambrillyant]

“your gut instinct is not a liar, those initial feelings exist for a reason, sit on them if you need to, process whether your feelings are valid or just projections, but never dismiss your intuition when the signs are staring you in the face and your nervous system is agreeing.”

— iambrillyant

[nikasholistic]

When you feel better, you attract better. When you feel better, you raise your frequency. When you’re in a higher frequency, your entire reality improves. The blueprint for leaving the life of your dreams comes from within. Everything you need to succeed is already within you. The world of your thoughts and emotions shapes the reality around you.

[tulipsofthemorning]

[bebx]

— Reema Sherin, Strings

[fsnavratil]

warm hands

//fs navratil

[deanepoetry]

Let’s paint your body with blush.

[vomitingwords]

"Sometimes, I hope people can always say what they truly feel. And be genuine about it. No restrictions. No holding back. No keeping all the most important parts.

But then I remembered that I myself couldn't even do that. So why would I expect other people to be like that?

I realized that sometimes we have to choose what we only have to say from the words that we truly want to say. Every word doesn't have to be said out loud; rather, let our actions show what we truly mean. Because not everyone has the time to listen to what we're about to say, and that's totally okay. We human beings don't have all the time in the world to understand everything that's happening around us. We're all busy trying to save ourselves and live life the way we want to.

So it's fine if you can't compose yourself to say everything you want to. But remember that there are so many ways to reach those people who are important to you. And I hope you'll be surrounded by the right people who will lend an ear to hear the stories that you've been holding onto."

I wish I was braver // ma.c.a

[almostsomewheremaybe]

the men in Palestine cry too

did you know the men in Palestine cry too?

tremble with fear. shake and shiver in the cold.

they blush, bruise, and bleed red like any woman or child.

they dream and pray and smile and sing. they are poetry enough. worthy of the name ‘innocent’.

the men in Palestine despair and anguish and hope against hope.

beneath their ribs are hearts where women and children are kept safe forever.

they’re the same as us in every way but one…

the men in Palestine remember each other. they remember each other, even when the whole world forgets they die too.

[thewaitingluna]

I wonder whose peace am I keeping, cause it is sure as hell isn’t mine.

[memories-beneath-the-skin]

If you love her, tell her.

If she speaks to your soul, listen with full attention.

If she chose you, she gave you the world.

[living-dead-girl515]

And sometimes it hits me, how deeply you cut me. The things you stole from me. The behaviors you left in me. I hate what you created, I hate what you did to me.

[iambrillyant]

“honor the friendships that allow you to pick up from where you last left off, regardless of how long it’s been since you connected. the friendships that survive hiatuses, silences and space. those are the connections that never die.”

— iambrillyant

[fairydrowning]

-Amy M. Homes, "This Book Will Save Your Life"

[TEXT ID: "I don't know anything anymore. Is that normal? Is it normal to notice the enormity of everything and just go blank?" END ID]

[tulipsofthemorning]