Moonlit Musings From An Everyday Hellhound

  She was hellfire and a little bit hurricane, burning bridges she once crossed for the same people who abandoned her and fed her empty promises. Raging winds and tidal waves caused destruction in her wake, putting out the fires of anger and betrayal. Her eyes showed facade, and only those who could withstand  the storm would be allowed to survive.

When I go, I will wreck you and all those surrounding you, a black plague of unrequited love. Fevers of passion will seep deep down into the bones and blood, sweat and tears shall pour from my pores.  Shallow breaths from asthma attacks when words fail you, when actions aren't enough and there is no remedy in sight. No, the pulse quickening in your chest means nothing, because you're the only one that feels -- a ghost of what could've been haunts your mind and makes you wish and dream of things unknown.  

  She was a cosmic witch -- she danced under every phase of the moon letting galaxies pulse through her veins, exploding through fingertips as she left her mark on the world.

Her hearts lost down the rabbit hole, searching for something concrete. Love? What is love, but a figment of the imagination, a lie told to us as children, giving us a small sense of false hope. Perfection? It's like the lost city of Atlantis, buried deep underground where only a few explorers will ever find it, they know the beauty in which they seek. Chasing Alice has never been so much fun, darting this way ( and that way ) only to find the rabbit hole has become Home.

  these ferris wheel dreams will take on the world, one by one, day by day, looking out upon the world in monotone hues. she dreams in colours only meant for those who believe in magic, with the innocence of children, with hopes of something more.

  i. to shoot for the moon and to land among the stars, isn’t a bad thing, darling, just keep believing in yourself. ii. song of the wolves under a silver light, hugging packs together- with family the biggest priority. iii. rummaging for food becomes a task of finding life within fresh dust ashes. iv. frozen remains solid as a rock, trying to push through bringing life with it, and colour to a world grey-washed. v. a pink moon to bring out flowers, and hues of cherry blossom short-lived, a trait the moon knows so well. vi. midnight garden blooms under moonlight only, in hues of sapphire, onyx, violet and opal- coming together home of fireflies. vii. strawberry harvest found within cotton, hues of rose and magenta warming the night creatures soul. viii. thunderous booms ring out among the skies, as Thor raises his hammer, pale white rays guide where lightning should hit. ix. hues of wrath shine bright this month, the colour of blood reminds of a history when things weren’t so happy...

  she fell from grace as all humans do, searching wastelands for any emotion tattered and torn were her wings like her soul, holes poked through allowing the rays of the sun to break down to unforgiving cement. she waited and hoped, that her belief in fairy-tales and magic still held some sort of weight, to carry her through; her doubts and fears screamed echoing in silence, and whispers on winds laughed as she fought herself to stay grounded. yes, angels cry too and their valkyrie screams echo upon those who believe, waiting for someone to feel something once again, the agony never leaves the bones when all you feel is darkness.

paint splatters within the onyx sky decorating the imagination trying to find a peace of comfort within an old soul and the winds will whisper ancient secrets to only those who cherish tradition.  

 I've always tried to upkeep blogs in the past and it never worked well. I guess I'm just a little too scatte-brained for it. However I thought I would try again because now, I am beginning to dislike facebook for the reasons of 'popularity', and well I needed some place that was only accessible to those that I allow to see my work. I am selective on who sees my work because I know how easy it is to copyright terms, phrases, ideas and make everything seem 'unoriginal', and I wanted a place where I knew those who have no interest in writing like I do could view my work.  I know, it sounds selfish, and I apologize. But I also needed a place where I could vent and not catch shade or anything else by anyone else that didn't know me, or my story. I don't need judgment from those who don't know my struggles trying to tear one of the few things I am confident in, trying to take that away from me. From here on out, I will try to post something weekly, then m...