Have you ever met an actress who was sincere?

Bladed Words

I cannot not lay claim to the apt description
That, ''she used her words like knives.''
There seems to be no better imagery than that of self imposed emotion.
What I find then upon every click, is a step taken.
To where, I do not know,
But what I do know is,
That is not how you tame the beast.
Nor is that how you sweeten the well.


I can choose how to feel,
So that time may prove true as to the relevant chair.
In fact there seems to be no greater need.
What I notice is that I am in a different room
Where the lights flicker
And the question is such
That the monsters beneath the bed
Choose to lay their tired brow on your chest.

Apples in the cheeks; swallows for tongues. In this forest there is no clear way to your heart of hearts. As night falls, I fear the space between shadows. I've left my crumbs behind.

And the shingled hut turns on it's single crooked leg away from my dagger. Every tree here bleeds a life and a song. Where then should I go if not forward into the heart of this story? Grimmer than grim.

It's not the moral at the end that matters but how we interact with the text. Snowfall to matches and hearts to sea foam.

I live, I die, my story remains. ...

And you my dear with your thoughtless words and even more thoughtless world, leave no trace.

The last thing I need is a spoiled brat. I need a good woman.

Selfishness is reason enough for a fickle woman to destroy.

Memory can be a dangerous thing.  Add ego to that and you create a vehicle capable of destroying dreams.

Is this worth it? I need to know I can depend on you with my life.