IfI wereto writeevery dayfor onehundred days,would my soulbe purged ofthis malaise;is it a thingto be dredged,dragged up –twistedand tiedlike tatteredbed sheetsknottedtogether;is therea remedyfor thisscourge;or is thisan inherentrestlessness,a fiery bluespark of eternalangst ignitingpassion – a callto write? (Originally posted February, 2017. Image my own)
Expectations artificialliving in an urban junglelonging for nature’s calm – time moves too swiftlybarely registerlet alone participate We are guests in our ownexpectation’s dysfunctionlicensed for depression a smorgasbord for abuseintentions mislaid,disappointment unavoidable The ego pretends to be openbut she’s an actress off cueplaying out a sentence – condemned to basicspraying to escapethis dystopian malfunction. (Image […]
One Woman's Quest II 
Punches right in the heart
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It kind of does.
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So poignant…
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Thanks Heather. A picture hold a thousand words.
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That it does…and sometimes leaves us speechless..
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beautifully sad……….
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Haunting for sure.
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yes it is………
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So random! Funny the places you find shoes.
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Right! I always wonder about the story behind the one shoe.
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And socks too.
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Strange and striking snap
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Thank you. I thought so too. Looks like there is a story here.
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Yes
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