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The Bipolar Diva: New Sensation

Sunday, November 30, 2014

The Bipolar Diva: New Sensation: She shut off the water of the hot, steamy shower she had taken, not only to cleanse her body, but to also aid in rid...


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New Sensation

Saturday, November 29, 2014


She shut off the water of the hot, steamy shower she had taken, not only to cleanse her body, but to also aid in ridding her soul, from layers of toxic threads that had slowly entrapped her.

In her hands she gathered her blonde hair and began to squeeze from it what she could of the remaining water she had immersed herself in.

She watched as the droplets that fell, formed streams that traced her bare body, as Newton’s Law prevailed. She imagined, willed, them to envelope, and carry with them, poisonous particles that had pierced, and bound, her spirit from wounds both past and present.

She stepped from the calming atmosphere she had luxuriated in, grabbed a thick, white, cotton, towel to wrap her still dripping hair, and another to dry the shell that embodied her essence.

As she filled her hands with her trademark scented lotion, she carefully studied the symbols on her body of broken chains. Symbols that had been permanently injected into her soft, ivory, skin. To her they not only represented the opening of a locked door, but also the key to a life yet to be explored. 

The air was heavy with steam as she cracked the door to allow a fresh breeze to fill her lungs. She removed the saturated towel from her hair, shook her head, allowing her long, blonde, tresses to fall to her waist, and cover much of her torso.

When the fog had been carried away with the light breeze, she stepped to the mirror. She gazed at the same face, partially covered with wefts of wavy, wet, hair, she had seen every day for decades, but this time noticed something different. 

There was a glimmer, a sparkle, in her auburn eyes, and a new sensation of inner growth, and within it she saw her true self. Although fearful of what was to come in much of her new life, she was certain, and committed, in other areas.

She stood there, as bare as her new-found existence, and felt the confines of the silken threads, in which she had been bound, begin to dissolve. With that she sensed, and embraced, the colorful wings she had always carried, but had never been allowed to fully open, emerging.  

Although fear’s talons still gripped her, she felt a confidence never before felt, and realized within herself she did have the capability to truly be happy. 


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Stars

Sunday, November 16, 2014

The night was so dark, cold, and isolating.

She longed for the shivering to end, and numbness slowly set in.

Over the years only a handful knew the depth of her pain and understood her desire to flee. 

Still entrapped by the talons that brought the isolation, she had grown used to the emptiness that had taken over.

It took years for the time to come when she was able to make the initial step of taking the night and embracing it.

She surrounded her soul with its solitude and blackness.

It was then she found the isolation was warm, much like the softness of velvet, and the petals of a black rose.  

Once she was enveloped by the cozy feeling of isolation, wrapped, and comforted, she turned and saw stars shining brightly; stars that would light her path. 

It was to those shimmering beams, and the hope they brought, she was drawn.

The twinkling lights in the night, that she followed, slowly turned night into the dawn of a new day.

Her stagnant, and mildewed existence, was replaced by a fresh breeze and the brightness of her future to which the stars were calling her to.

Though she is still in the process of clipping the grip of talons that held her spirit captive for so long, she knows a bright, new, world awaits, and the tight petals of the black rose will open into beautiful colors long since extinct.

xoxo,

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Ain't No Grave

Thursday, November 13, 2014




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Shimmering Threads of Gold

Saturday, November 8, 2014

In years past, a spider carefully spun a web of shimmering threads of the most fine of fools gold. The web was captivating, engaging, and gave the appearance of safety, and solace, to unknowing souls.

Years later souls that confused the web, carefully crafted with false beauty, were drawn to the fabulously fabricated trap that would entangle not only their bodies, but minds, souls, and spirits.

The allure, the spider maliciously created, drew those whose hearts were easily swayed by the spider's charisma, and false appearance of security and stability. They knew not the intentions of their entrapment, and inevitable demise of their inner most beings, and their still forming minds.

They, themselves, were wound tightly in the web of deceit that was meant for the destruction of another.

Although the one the beauty, and falsehoods, had originally been meant for had been entwined, and held captive for years, it finally found an area, a flaw in the web, through which it could make its escape from the snarled web of destruction.

With its escape it looked back and shed tears for those still under the spell of the spider's charisma and stronghold. The freed captive wasn't actually free at all with the others that continued to be stuck in the midst of the mirage initiated for the one that had once been enslaved.

The heart of the "freed" captive remained with those that chose to remain blinded by the seductiveness of the subtle trickery of the one that sought total control over the one that got away.

There will come a day when those still entrapped will, themselves, be freed. When that day comes, the original captive will rejoice, and life will begin once more for all.


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Beneath The Cat

Monday, November 3, 2014


Beneath a stuffed cat, in a box tucked out of sight, I caught a glimpse of neatly folded, thin, yellowed paper. I held my breath as memories of years before came rushing forth.

Few would recognize what the crisply wrapped, filmy paper enveloped; however, I instantly knew its contents.

Its prisoner once held the power to transmit my emotional pain into an ethereal peace that cannot be described by written word, only felt by the souls, and the spirits, of those that share the knowledge of its transcending powers.

In my mind I was able to clearly visualize the sharpened edges, to feel the cold steal against my skin, and to remember my resolve to overcome the torment the blade represented. 

There was a time when I allowed free flowing, ruby colored, ribbons to run haphazardly down my arm. I vividly remembered how observing their individual paths flooded my mind with tranquility, and allowed my focus to shift, granting the emotional torment to dull for a time, enabling me to re-charge for the next inevitable storm.

Carefully, slowly, I picked up the stuffed feline. I saw dozens more of the razor containing envelopes. I had stored them to aid in the release from the mental pain I knew would soon come, in actuality, it never left.

I removed the contents of the box, all but the objects of my memories. I stood, cardboard box in hand, and determinedly walked to the garbage can.

I watched as the symbols, of what had once held me captive, slowly tumbled into the container. As each one fell into the abyss, I felt pieces of my once tattered soul return. The instant they had all been discarded,  I knew I would once again become whole.




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