Is it selfishthis chosen solitude?How I treasure silence,stillness baiting my muse And is it my calmthat attracts chaos?The sorrow of otherslanding on my doorstep What if I rejected pleas,locked out the troubles?How long can I sustainpeace until need answers? (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Does illness have a voice,and if so; is it melancholy,or dark and dank, divulgingdeepest despair, or revealinga vileness of nature? Discord creeps along my veins,disrupts muscles, systems failingunder the oppression –“Stay strong,” friends counsel,cannot hear the gathering storm,feel the heaviness cloaking me. I am not myself, but then;who am I? Is disease a mutationof the […]
Discharge the gun –protection a vesselthrough which our depthsare undefined…adrift Fear is a burrowerwears a false crownbirths losstrusts danger Hearts beg,amid this trigger-readinessfor a guardian – unafraidto court this meaningless Futility unchecked –to study productive optionsunimaginable in the current state of chaos on repeat. (Art my own)
Love the second candid photo, V.J. I keep wanting to know more about the story. She got my attention. ❤
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She has such expression – I always want to know what is going on in that mind.
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Great pictures! Love the black and whites.
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Thanks Keith!
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Beautiful! ❤
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Thank you!
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These are all adorable photos. I really like the first photo. 😀
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Thanks LuAnne.
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If only we remained so open and unashamed, so vital and alive.
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Wouldn’t that be good. Having little ones around is a great reminder.
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Yes indeed, the inner child injection.
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Beautiful! 🙂
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Thanks!
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