Soul Talk....Desperate.

You ever have one of those days where your womb is crying out...and you can't pin point one particular ailment...but its some of everything...life, goals, relationships...love.....and you soul just needs to wail.....this is one of those days...as my pen narrates....

I cried...I cried because he spoke truth; and it pierced the most intimate places I didn't know- where sensitivity and uncomfort lies, where guilt penetrates offense and birth broken,sorrowful tears of utter confusion; yet truth. It is truth.

He said, "You know what the problem is?, 'artsy' people never complete anything-so spread out and over extended- they find pleasure in the right stroke, the perfect verse, or the tight..just right beat, the line in the dance....However, their curiosity and thirst for exploring more passions keeps them from ever producing!"
Producing. Non productive. So many gifts and nothing of substance to show for it....is this the truth?...my truth? Is this what hurts? Stagnation and the cycle of miscarriage in my life, my relationships, my goals, my dreams and passions. Where is the beauty? Where is the peace? Where am I?

Desperation. Chasing after you. I need you. more and more. Where do I go? Who do I run to? sharing this empty space, feels like I lost the grip of life- so it seems...friends out of touch-backing away, completely from the scene-who is to play the part for the next act..the next chapter of my life? never been in a position/posture like this- feeling as though I have to chase after companionship, plead my worth of company-bargain my assets-gifts, for talentless conversations-to no elation-alone. I sit. tired. Drained. stuck. out of options. fighting the temptation of depression-can't go back there-darkness is not an option! and then there's Him....I miss it. the covenant.the promise of safety-though short lived. I need it now. consistency speak to me. Productivity Prophesy to me...say to the giants of despair...and the mountains of stagnation...be moved! let me breath!..let me see!...let me rise...let me be. let me be.

I inhale dreams birthing visions unclear, laced on my face sketches of pillow wishes becoming as one with you-Desperate for magical nights- love glistinin between shy highs-within the deep walls of my thighs...behold my affection is your delight.

My soul is desperate.