Is back to listening to Damien Rice again.

Fuck you.

.

I think he’s got you on your knees

By his door, under his mantle

Piss poor thoughts

Fucked relief

Love is love’s reprieve

Winter is coming and you’re stuck

Stuck with the temporary blues

Struck high

Now they’re here to stay

Love is love’s loss

Taking places with you now

Hoping to learn and forget

You had nothing

Because nothing looks like him

Love is love’s mystery

He’s drinking now

Taking in everything you hate

Who will love that

What’s love when you’ve hurt

You’re wondering who will

Love is love’s defeat

Taking places with you now

Hoping to learn and forget

You had nothing

Because nothing looks like him.

Love is love’s critique

Absence

I haven't blogged in a while. 


I think I've forgotten what's important recently. Not that blogging's truly important; but my thoughts are, and so is the time I take for myself. 

I feel an affinity with this picture that I've found recently. I'm this little girl at the moment.

 I've found something truly amazing. It's alluding and mystical. It's beautiful and spiritual. It's wise. And is full of the promise of protection. But protection comes as part of a dichotony with danger... and that part scares me. It could hurt me at any point. 

But I'm the girl in this picture. 

I'm finally reaching out and embracing something that's scaring me. I recognize the promise and the warmth, and I just want to touch it: to embrace it's wisdom, older than mine; to understand its world, just as complex as mine; and to love it for who it is, because i know it loves me for who I am.