You Are My Thoughts, No Matter What Time Of Day.....

Moon

Incredible capture in Utah 🌝🏜

I yearn to take you to the beach, where you can be truly free, let you be lost in the ryrhmic sounds of the water lapping onto the smooth sand.

The wind lifting up the scents of salt and seaweed, fine particles of dry sand cling faintly on your skin.

To let you rest under the sun.

To see you swim in the water.

To watch you fall asleep with book on the shore.

To have night, overtake the day, to need to layer up on clothes, to watch the beautiful moonlight, caress the surface of the waves.

To have a small fire near by, it's tendrils of smoke weaving into the darkness.

To cling to you, to bury myself deep inside you, to make love to you, under the stars, our sounds going unheard, except to Mother nature, to get lost into each other in the moment.

“I find the sea to be both a natural expression of our human world, and a healing balm for it.” By pastel artist Jeanne Rosier Smith.

The moon embrace the sun.. ☀️💛🌙

I need the moon close tonight... Seems from watching historical documents (cartoons), I can pull it closer with a seemingly average length rope.

If only it was so easy.

The deep painful introspective looks in the mirror at myself, have the same weight as someone's judgmental take on me, as they pass by with their first impressions as they judge either how I look, or how they chose to see me.

Either way it's as soothing to my soul as standing in one spot, barefoot on hot blacktop as the sun beats down upon it.

Maybe I never get to put away the knife, or better yet forget where I laid it. I'd settle for wiping it off on my sleeve and putting it in its sheath.

The untrusting darkness in me, combined with the auras that decide to pass by instead create the need to clench it so hard in my hand my knuckles turn white.

Fractured thoughts converge, tinting my field of vision around me.

It's not fear, but weariness.

I rather would choose the darkness or at least the shadows than to be laid bare in the unforgiving sun.

To bathe in the moonlight is to heal, to weather my skin to handle the torment of my waiting demons.

I see the silence in their touch, I hear the cold embrace against my skin.

At least their companionship is steady, the cuts, bruises, the crimson trail of thoughts they plant is expected.

I don't embrace them, but I've learned to depend on them for at least a normalicy in my life.

Without my anxiety, my demons that remind me in my sleep not to ware dream of a fairy tale life, I'd be tempted to trust those around me.

Instead I live looking for patterns... What do they want?what do they seek from me? What can I do for them?

Once they take a look at my face, or my intense soul the majority show themselves as weak, selective, callus in how they change, turn, ignore, block, or disappear.

Trust....

What the fuck is that anyway?

Unconditional acceptance... Yeah ok.. Now that's a beautiful fantasy.

I would rather be labeled too intense, or untrusting, I would rather always hold my knife and count on one hand those that may actually give a fuck about me, then to live like the lemmings that think popularity in numbers is love, or that kind words aren't laced with dark intentions.

Everywhere I turn, I look for you.

As I sift through the fading remnants of my dreams.... One thing I know... I desire you.

Moon....

Moon....

You are the Poem I dreamed of writing (by Milamai)

Trapper Creek Moon