Wish upon a scar.
When you wish upon a scar you magnify the little pieces of the world that splinter my skin in a dream, could it seem that the rush wrapped tightly, binding, around and around constrict the hours of all that I am? In between the stars and sin are the recipes stirring, the meld of society, time and wasted youth. I know the truth, I spoke too soon. Too eager to burn and wring, to make it a point. To present to you the faces peeled in apple skins, in twisting cores and when I flip my hair out of my eyes and look at you that way, I’ve traveled too far. It’s just a reflection and any remedies considered don’t exist and there I am, in between the stars and sin. All feathered up here and coasting, all whispered in satin tongue. It’s like a surge of all the bluest oceans screaming. And the pretty fields on fire, I’ve misplaced my desire and untied tales now swim alone. It’s a shied reality in little boxes breathing, bare in all it’s honesty, how absurd that I’m still here. Breathing, bathing, watching.
Oh Kara. Breathtaking. Your words and imagery, the flow. And your photo. You are one of the most lifegiving, brilliant, humane humans I’ve ever met – if not THE most. Your passion for living, both fighting for life and living life is incredible, and I really appreciate you sharing that with me – well everyone, but selfishly, me. You restore my faith in the human race just about daily. I truly love you strong. I mean it.
WOW! WOW!
The flow of this piece, the rise, and fall, the pitch, and tone are beyond words.
Thank you for taking me on that journey with you, you have such a unique way with language, it is simply magical.
LYS!!
You have an incredible gift not only with capturing the essence of a beautiful sunset but also with capturing the essence of deep feelings with your words. Just incredible. LYS!!!
Kara. I don’t think I have words for this piece. It’s too beautiful. It’s almost too relatable to my own life and feelings. Yes, it’s the hardest battle, feeling the need and desire to hide pieces of your soul away from the world. And too scary to open those little boxes that hold the things you can’t stand about yourself. The intense complexities that our feelings hold, and we don’t know what to do with them, because they are so confusing in the first place. And the regret of such wasted time and what you could have done with it, instead of feeling pity.