She used to see everything
in pixels and numbers,
always needing something
from someone,
always competing in a race
within her own mind.
But then she took a step back.
She started seeing the celestial blue sky,
the morning rays that painted her room gold,
and the mocha leaves as they danced with the breeze.
She started seeing smiles
and unspoken words,
spirit and peace
within herself.
She saw that maybe sometimes,
the hardest step to take
but the one we really need,
is a step back.
You paint your rosy pink hues
into lives as grey as stormy nights.
You wash doubts away
and with a first aid kit in hand,
you treat the wounds left behind.
There isn’t a need for you to do any of that,
yet you still carry on
for you have once been told
to be kind,
take heart
and give love
whenever you can
for that may just be what someone needs.
Now as you look at the damage done,
you start to wonder,
“Maybe that’s what everyone needs.”
This piece was inspired by the Crystal of Unconditional Love itself, the Rose Quartz. It is said to be the Stone of the Heart that inspires the love of beauty while also dissolving emotional wounds and fears. It embodies compassion, peace and personal contentment.
If you are reading this,
I want you to know that
you will be alright.
Life may not always
be picturesque,
but it is still a life
and that is a beauty in itself.
You may have done things
you wished you hadn’t,
but how can one ever learn
without making mistakes.
Your wings may be tattered,
but across the
mesmerizing horizons
you will still soar.
It has only been
a few chapters my dear,
your story
is not over yet.
Keep reading,
for something magical
happens on page 530.
Under the wine red sky
of broken promises,
she witnessed the pure beauty
of a new dawn.
She may have lost
a dear one,
but what she found
was a treasure beyond compare.
She found herself.
She sits by the door in the shadows.
A spectrum of light seeps out from it,
hues of emerald, sapphire and amethyst
dance against the walls,
like a crystal underneath the moonlight.
She leans in closer to the door.
A sonorous tune from a piano,
the rhythmic strums of a guitar,
and a staccato beat of the drums,
all orchestrate into an enthralling piece,
one that flutters around her earlobes.
She presses her ear against the door.
Beyond the melody,
she hears voices,
some familiar and some unknown.
She listens as they scream, laugh, cry
and peculiarly harmonise with the ongoing aria.
Her fingertips reach for the cold doorknob.
She gives it a light twist,
but nothing happens,
for it was locked.
One day,
when the time comes,
the door in the shadows will open.
But for now,
the future shall remain a mystery to her.
Their love was,
cold coffee and wet hair,
sweatpants and sitcoms,
piggybacks and forehead kisses.
Their love was,
ordinarily extraordinary.
Not much to some,
but more than enough to them.
The truth is
I can’t lie to you.
You had all the hearts in a flush.
My suits were black in disgust.
I never meant to hurt you.
Still trying not to hurt myself.
I moved the pieces blindly
And left my Queen behind me.
-Blake Dias
My dear,
Your lips speak of love,
as though it’s nothing,
but a game.
It daunts me,
for I know the rules.
One will triumph,
and the other will lose.
But won’t you please take a bow,
for it is my turn now,
and this die I will roll,
into a future bewitchingly unknown.
-igrowontrees
This piece is a collaboration between Blake Dias and myself. Read more and keep in touch with Blake over at http://www.internationaldexterity.com/.
The golden leaves she raked,
the letters she wrote,
the spiced cakes she baked,
her smile that never fades.
But lies were told,
fiery tears rolled,
her heart grew cold,
and her hand you will now never hold.
“Seasons change- and so did she.”
Cover artwork by Morgan Davidson
Sites: http://morgandavidsonart.com/ // http://morgandavidsonart.tumblr.com/
My heart’s a puppet,
and your words the puppeteer.
You tug the strings,
and all I can do is swing.
To be freed is what I want,
for manipulation isn’t any fun.
Mark my words when I say,
I will break away today.
And I would turn these broken strings into wings,
for I am not one who needs a king.
What I couldn’t see I’ve now seen,
And the voices they chime,
“Soar away my Queen”.
Cover illustration by Rlon Wang
Site: https://www.behance.net/rlon
You have seen the dusky night sky.
No,
not the one illuminated by specks of stars
with whispers of a gentle breeze.
But the somber kind,
the one that traps you in a whir-pool of thoughts,
with its deep navy blue blanket
slowly suffocating you.
You may think there is no way out,
But still,
the auroral Sun rises.
igrowontrees 