for the freedom to live 

i long for more time

of my own,

more time where i can

simply be me;

create and escape into

the creations of others—

i want to be a living

breathing song of art,

don't care much for being

a cog in a machine designed

to crush me when they've

drained me of every resource

they can take from me;

i am magic and i am divine—

want only for my life to be mine,

for the freedom to live and not

simply exist;

there are so many places i want to

know and so many pieces of art

i have yet to know and so many people

that i haven't met and so many books

i must read, others to write—and it never 

feels as if

there's enough time.

magic of the forest

i want to take

a walk in a

moody green forest

of summer or 

an autumn forest full

of coloured leaves,

let me dance in 

the creeks and listen to

crow song;

allow me to free

my soul of the burdens

of society for i am a

wild thing and i long to return

often to my heart

and i find it in the magic

of the forest—

the creek washes away

my worries,

and every tree i hug shows

me paths of kindness and forgiveness;

here all of my sadness and anger

fades so i can be embraced

by tranquility.

discovered my magic

i always looked

to the stained glass

windows and the

cross for answers,

but they never 

had a reply nor did 

the prayers

i would say in church;

hands tightly clasped,

legs bouncing,

anxiety mounting with

each breath—

i found my church wasn't

held within four walls and my

gods and goddesses

weren't those found

in the bible,

but i only discovered my magic

when i let go of a religion

that only harmed me and wounded

me to my core;

one that made me feel 

as if i'd never be good enough

or measure up to all their standards.