Do you even carry,
In your little warm hairy,
A bone of any courteously or caring?
Why is it that,
After the fact,
I feel so alone and wary?
I so long to be held,
Together our bodies could meld,
I just want to feel intimacy and love.
Alas you're like a stone,
With a heavy sigh and a groan,
Would you be soft even if you could of?
I'm sorry that I was born with deep heart and emotions. Intricate feelings and a mirage of subconscious vibes. Every little thing you do or don't do, say or don't say, way or not way..... I just want to feel truly cared about, appreciated, honored, and nurtured.
There was a word that came to mind and it's lost now.
When or if it comes back, I'll post again.
Apparently there is no app or easy way to post on here from my iPhone, assuming because Google is at odds with Apple. I've thought about downloading chrome before. I just need a better outlet, live journal is great too but for some reason I get very drawn to this one. Maybe because it spurs artistic creations? I may still jump back and forth frequently. But the fact remains I need to write more. Even if it's on my phone, with little tiny text, late at night in the warmth of my bed. My own warmth I'm creating while he lays a few feet away, in his own little world, and me in mine.
I long to create my own world again. I often try to figure out why I used to be so happy. And I think that was it. Creating my own little world- with art and writing and nature. Now that I have Jesus I don't need as much new age influences like witchcraft spells or stones to pray to. Yet I miss my fanciful dreamy delights, my mystical and awe for the earth. I want it back. Being a mom now doesn't mean I can't dream.
Bye for now.
