Dubious

The Daily Posts Dubious


A ha! If there is one word to describe my actions it would be dubious. Such as believing the sweet nothings of the rolling stone variety. At the moment, I laugh at myself for being so idiotic. But it isn’t funny at all, is it? I feel it’s a bit too early to pour myself some Black Magic Rum. Either way, I have to explore it at this point. Me, dubious as I continued to walk through his door. Him, dubious as he looked in the mirror. But that never stopped a lie. 

I should’ve charged. Thieves lose hands every night. He’s probably laughing hysterically- belly filled with poison devoured from tongues. There I tore the pages and ate them. There is no more soreness. Some shiny apples are rotten at the core. Little girls better grow up and learn. Savagery and low vibes hide high. But boomerangs continue to deliver. Deep within the marrow he knows..

That his mask will either melt or mold. And both are most certainly the heart break he gave generously.

Photography by E.J. Bellocq

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A Bomb Drops

I saw a bomb drop during an afternoon in an eastern country (I’m not sure where I was. Could’ve been America. But I had the string direction of East). It was a clear sky, I think I saw a water tower nearby. What ever it was, it was white and stood high into the sky. It seemed to he an industrial town or near a work site but strangely I also saw a rural town and the city not far ahead. As soon as I saw the mushroom cloud rise, I woke up. The wheel keeps turning.
Owl

Neighbors

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/neighbors/

(I just need to let it out)

I believed that we were neighbors. As with my mail, I trusted him with my heart. I invited him into my home with his intentions of tearing it apart. My neighbor went AWOL. Not very shocking to me. Quite typical. What ever happened to chivalry? Maybe he packed it up with his bathroom box labeled “Fragile”. Much like We. Unfortunately, I was addicted. His lies were all I needed. 

In My Tree,

Owl

Burning The Pine Cone

Photo Source

Determined to cleanse after that old song played. She couldn’t seem to get that face out of her head. Instead of a tearful call, she took a lighter to her pine cone. The smoke traveled around her neck. She took a breath inward, inhaling the peace it had given her. She then exhaled the thoughts of suicide over someone who already sacrificed her.

Maiden and Mother

I am opening my window. “Fine”, I thought to myself. Mama Wolf, Mama Healer. A Mother with Maiden tendencies, who has partially experienced the reality of The Crone.  

I feel like you all understand (overstand) me in a way that others do not. My blog entries are thoughts circling and intertwining. Processing this all. Life. Aren’t we all? 

Thoughts: You can’t punish someone for something that they didn’t do. You can’t punish someone for something that they had every right to do.

In My Tree,

Owl