Since these words don’t come out right
may it be, the language of the dead
outloud I have said
To be brave is my therapy
the daunting chance –
losing it all,
Worth every spence
Since it is
I who must
answer the final-call
Dear Pen,
Throwing water through the sky
sometimes I cry without any reason or any need
Yet the melodies of breathing loudly,
Ohay-Ohey ,
This joy,
I find -hiding and seeking
underneath the journey of my purse
in the back alleys, off sidewalks
Ohay-Ohey,
I stoop, breaking through silence-halls in my mind
I empty all my
worries-sifting
Ohay-Ohey,
growing up in courage
we’ll meet again.
If I 
let her go
If I start to trust myself
If Joy is for Living-
laughter is my soul
then-delay the clock
and rest a little while.
If you like what you have read, please consider making a donation in any amount in order to build a better website and reach Visionariekindness goals…
She had crumbled before
throwing hands right above the stippled light.
This time, her eyes were squared
distilling the faintest of frozen dust.
Her thirst was cleaver
anticipating her stage
She could really take flight.
Just,
Tonight.
Give it all you got!
Even if it is just another bust,
Exhale
Reboot me-back to happy
where sunshine grows on trees
and the people are missing teeth
dialing rhythms
connecting my journey far beyond suffering
thats where I wanna be…
I saw one withered creature
begging for an extra soul.
After-all he had spent
fixing damaged hearts
I saw one, without hands and yet he managed to play
the only game he ever knew
and so he begged
his life away.
Today I saw the rain landings pregnant with drops of love
saturating empty riverbeds
The sky sang
The pinecones swam in the wind
All the while peaty soiled-souls tried to stay alive again.
As a twiny-girl
I said I didn’t need to pray.
Broken tail-lights
all the worlds afraid.
What a sight
to see with no eyes
and talk with handguns
it makes no sense,
and now,
all I do,
talking to the Sun…
Krissy Mosley Ministries 