There's beauty to be found in wild, messy, untamable hair and wild eyes.
In sitting cross legged like a five year old again.
Even in tears shed over lost love and innocence.
In desperation and drowning fear.
Vulnerability and blind red rage.
In the pathetic attempts to heal a heart broken into millions of golden pieces.
In shy side glances and uncertain smiles.
Beauty in grief over a dead bird.
In being emotional.
In blank stares of people that don't know anymore.
In girls that prefer not to look at themselves in a mirror without make up that lie.
In counting calories and shaking your head 'no' even though you wanted to shout 'yes'.
In feelings whose roots find themselves deeply woven into your arteries and sprouting flowers shaped like stars.
There's beauty in the emotion that wells up in you when you smell the perfume your mother used to wear.
In the dramatic effect music can have on your heart.
In maternal instincts.
In a friend's arms.
Even in feeling the Sunday type of blue.
There is beauty in the human nature.
Woven into DNA and flowing through veins like harmless poison.
You take my breath away.
ReplyDelete-T. x
Wow, this was rad.
ReplyDelete"There's beauty in the emotion that wells up in you when you smell the perfume your mother used to wear."
"In feeling the Sunday type of blue."
Beautiful memories, images, senses. I dig.
Beautiful and so deep <3
ReplyDeleteJust realised why I haven't been seeing your posts lately... you changed your blog name.
Count on me to be a sensate in odd times :p
Oh my hat Nine!
ReplyDeleteJy MOET skryf.
xxxx
So baie dankie, Bee. ilyilyily x
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