Thoughts are the voodoo doll of life.
Settling within the negative,
Predicting it to be true,
Becomes the truth.
– Julia Grace
"Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words." -Robert Frost
Thoughts are the voodoo doll of life.
Settling within the negative,
Predicting it to be true,
Becomes the truth.
– Julia Grace
There I lay in an ocean of tears
Again.
I Shattered the mirror of who I wanted to be.
But,
Is it really who I wanted to be?
Was it just who society told me to be?
My vision is blurred
Clarity is evasive.
Endless voids before me,
I ponder whether I should get up.
Or to just give it up.
A choice at a time,
I keep going.
As long as I breathe,
I hope.
I pray.
I wait.
– Julia Grace
The moonlight,
Full of silence,
Yet,
It echoes through the night
Comforting restless ones,
Those far from home.
A wave of peace
A guiding light in utter darkness.
-Julia Grace
Behind the eyes.
Behind the tears.
Behind the present moment.
In front of you
Will be seen, a fighter
Scrapes, bruises, gashes, scars
Sometimes melting through their skin,
Covering the soul.
Other times,
The world is unaware.
The fighter comes in many forms
Lines trace their skin.
A map of their story.
Perhaps a wrinkle in time
Or red dots placed where they are
Maybe scars showing a beaten trail of memories
A fighter may look weak from the outside,
Facing the inevitable daily.
Fears surround them,
Mocking their every breath.
Yet, a fire stirs them.
An otherworldly strength.
Pressing on, a fighter moves forward.
They never see their progress.
In faith,
Taking small steps,
A fighter survives what was meant to crush them.
In their weakness, is strength.
– Julia Grace
Tears running down her face,
She wishes she could run from her problems as easily as the droplets she feels escaping her eyes.
She feels trapped within a vast wilderness
Nothing but thorns and ash remain.—-
The occasional vulture of fear lurks,
Preying at her with every opportunity.
Her feet stumble over sharp rocks,
Lies.
She thirsts for safety.
For life.
-Julia Grace
Putting poison in his veins,
He clings to life
Long needles thought to make a bridge,
To pass over the hurt of leaving.
He loves much,
Not wanting to let go.
– Julia Grace
Life is full of strings
Each stage different.
Stretched,
We learn to make music.
In the highs, and lows
Without stress and pressure,
Never would we learn our melody,
Or purpose. —
To hold strong to who we are,
Yet bending to the will of the creator.
That is the balance.
Tough as steel,
Yet soft as a lullaby.
Strings of life,
Even amidst times of silence,
Are full of potential.
– Julia Grace
The color of pain
Is it a whitewash?
Nothingness in life,
Numb.
Is it the deep blues of sadness?
Drowning in a sea of tears,
Memories.
Is it the deep purples of disappointment?
Bruises on the heart,
Words.
Is it the ebony of every single emotion?
Blinded by feelings,
Lost.
Is it the red of anger?
Heat in a moment,
Wounds.
The color of pain.
By: Julia Grace
From out of nowhere
In this cold, stark world
Forgiveness called out,
“Leave the past.
Leave it where it belongs.”
Words echo still.
Grace gently lifted my head
Giving a warm smile,
Now imprinted forever in my mind.
Hope walks side by side with me,
Pointing out the rising sun,
The stars.
I press on.
– Julia Grace
You wear your past as wings
Rising up each morning
A new song in your breath
Breathing in the fumes of hate
Yet remaining unmoved
You exhale grace
A wonder you are.
By: Julia Grace