Moon....

All one could ever hope for.....

“no more half loves” by Chloë Frayne

I need to bask in the energy of my moonlight for as long as I can tonight.

To be able to wake, relish your body in the early morning light.....to enjoy my moon

Take you by the hand, just get lost in nature

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The taste of your skin.. The salt and șweat.. The lingering perfume..... The warmth of you on my lips... An forgettable unique concoction that will always linger in my mind.

I'd rather love and be hurt, than to never have felt the emotion.

“She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cosy bed, and to love and be loved in return.”

— Starra Neely Blade (via quotemadness)

The deep painful introspective looks in the mirror at myself, have the same weight as someone's judgmental take on me, as they pass by with their first impressions as they judge either how I look, or how they chose to see me.

Either way it's as soothing to my soul as standing in one spot, barefoot on hot blacktop as the sun beats down upon it.

Maybe I never get to put away the knife, or better yet forget where I laid it. I'd settle for wiping it off on my sleeve and putting it in its sheath.

The untrusting darkness in me, combined with the auras that decide to pass by instead create the need to clench it so hard in my hand my knuckles turn white.

Fractured thoughts converge, tinting my field of vision around me.

It's not fear, but weariness.

I rather would choose the darkness or at least the shadows than to be laid bare in the unforgiving sun.

To bathe in the moonlight is to heal, to weather my skin to handle the torment of my waiting demons.

I see the silence in their touch, I hear the cold embrace against my skin.

At least their companionship is steady, the cuts, bruises, the crimson trail of thoughts they plant is expected.

I don't embrace them, but I've learned to depend on them for at least a normalicy in my life.

Without my anxiety, my demons that remind me in my sleep not to ware dream of a fairy tale life, I'd be tempted to trust those around me.

Instead I live looking for patterns... What do they want?what do they seek from me? What can I do for them?

Once they take a look at my face, or my intense soul the majority show themselves as weak, selective, callus in how they change, turn, ignore, block, or disappear.

Trust....

What the fuck is that anyway?

Unconditional acceptance... Yeah ok.. Now that's a beautiful fantasy.

I would rather be labeled too intense, or untrusting, I would rather always hold my knife and count on one hand those that may actually give a fuck about me, then to live like the lemmings that think popularity in numbers is love, or that kind words aren't laced with dark intentions.

Don't be stubborn, don't be stupid.

If your moon, shines for you..... Use it!

Absorb it.

Soak it in.

Close your eyes, fall to your knees, spread your arms wide, if you feel led.

But do not turn your back from it, especially when it's what you desperately need and desire.

My moon....

““I can’t lose you. Because if I ever did, I’d have lost my best friend, my soul mate, my smile, my laugh, my everything.””

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