When she wakes up on Thursday morning, it's not a particularly special day. It's not Monday, the day where business seems a little more cutthroat and the chilren scream a little louder. It's not Friday, when excitement bubbles just under the skin. Thursdays seem to be days when the sun shines a little gentler, and oftentimes rain comes drifting ( Read more... )

( Duality )

( Safekeeping dreams )

Dance in the pouring rain. Go out without makeup. Wear the sweater that you love but has holes around the hem. Jump into the brilliant blue sea. Make a new friend. Help a stranger with their bags.

The world can be beautiful too.

Take a chance. 

I know you're out there. Walking this earth at this very moment, somewhere. I know you're there. I don't yet know your name, but I know your heart. I don't know what you look like, but I believe that when it's time, my soul will recognise yours. I hope, I know, I wish. I wait. When will you find me?

( Bar nights )

Eyes follow you. They watch you as you move, watch you as you stretch an arm out to the sunlight in the attempt to feel some warmth on your palm. Your hands are always cold these days. You close your fist and somehow, cannot bring up the energy to feel disappointed when you feel soft wings crumple beneath your fingers ( Read more... )

She waits by the window, watching the clouds drift and the sun wink sleepily behind his guardians. The trees sway gently in the playful wind, leaves rustling against the sounds of birds and children playing in the park just behind. Come play, they seem to call. She watches and her fingers touch the smudged glass lightly, brushing an invisible ( Read more... )

Sometimes when you wake up, you roll over onto your side and stretch out a arm so you can open your eyes to a palm of sunshine. A smile curves your lips and the butterflies in your stomach feel more yellow and blue and red and every colour but grey. You pull your covers up to your chin but do not seek to hide behind, rather smooth out the edges and ( Read more... )

Darling angel, won't you listen? Listen to my voice, whispering into your snow-white feathers. Hear my thoughts and do not weep. I wish you, to pray - pray for you and all your children... but never for me. Because I'm not for you. Not me, not mine and nor all that which belongs to me. It's not fate that tears us apart, and it is not time that ( Read more... )