“Everything intensifies during a full moon. Your edge creeps up slowly on the awaiting shore.”

My flowers rot beneath my bed. I was too selfish to part with them. I hope their deaths don’t bring hexes. Did I say flowers? I meant my exes.

He pondered, what would make them believe in me? And God created women.

Honey, you are a rose.

A creature lives deep within, rotting far beneath my skin. Touch the pain inside of me, just to let my heart be free.

I was born from nature therefore, I am art.

For my own sanity, I must love myself in an obsessive and urgent manner. My life depends on it. I am healing.

With all the secrets and lies you keep. Your beauty is only skin deep. Vamp.

Because of her, I know unconditional love. Because of him, I have learned to forgive. Life lessons from mom and dad.

If I can inhale I can speak up.

I am filled with mirth at my own rebirth.

Leave all hurt in the past to let love in. Hopeful. Don’t block your blessings.

You don’t need him. Bloom baby, bloom.

Even the prettiest rose wilts.

What a privilege to be a woman.

But you’re acting like a weed.

A rose with her thorns is still a rose.

She danced in the moonlight knowing they shared the same song.

The moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.

Moon is the light from a lantern in heaven.

Only the moon’s smile can cure the unseen scars of darkness.

All shadows of clouds the sun cannot hide like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide; but a hidden star can still be smiling at night’s black spell on darkness, beguiling.

You don’t need a sad soul to feel the beauty of a dead grave, Just stay with the pale moon when darkness wants the night to be brave.

There comes in all our lives a time, when the ears can listen to no music save what the moonlight breathes through the flute of silence.

Man is summed up in Art. All the rest is moonshine.