The heart’s unrest is a loud and painful screech that could be heard miles away.

Through moments of torment and aggravation, the heart shrinks in dimension.

Replaying memories of its acts of selflessness and love.

Some of the most beautiful things we will never understand…some seek for it’s meaning. I choose to regale in it’s wonder and awe…it’s this beautiful thing called Love.

Love has transformed the fleshy organ that keeps us a live to vulnerable beings. Vulnerable to pain and suffering. Vulnerable to deception and cruelty.
But most vulnerable to this beauty that we share with another soul.
This one vulnerability alone out shines and negative feeling…Love heals the valleys of angst and undesirability. Give Love and inch and it’ll travel beyond measures of dimension.

Love once spoke of its muse: A permeable heart, susceptible and open to all adventures. She saw no color nor spat on the graves of Love’s Lost Ones…

I am free. Free from my own social constructs that binds me to man’s image of perfection.

I am free. Free to express all my distress in any public forum to cope with pain and anger this strong woman endures.

I am free. Free to divulge thoughts to my trespassers of space and time. For disrupting my aura won’t make you a better person just exposes the leech that you are.

I am free. Free to surrender my heart to whom I find suitable. For if they chew up and spit my heart back at me in their cannibalistic manner, I’ll pick up those pieces renew myself.

I am free. I am open. I am vulnerable. You can temporarily knock me down, throw dirt on my name, call me out on my character or gut heart out and parade it in the streets. But this woman, she has class! She has way too much soul to indulge in those activities. While you sit there and judge me, I’ll be there to hold the mirror in your face…it is then, you’ll face your own judgement.

I am free. Free to be me. I accept me, take responsibility for my actions and will always soar above because I’m thinking light years beyond you.

….and these are the Musings of This Lost Soul.

Shattered Pieces…

Pieces…pieces everywhere. Trying to make sense of them like a puzzle.

With each unique piece, there’s a story of happiness, erotica, pain, aguish, denial, and peace.

Place one piece of desire next to the piece of pain and outcomes a hearty recipe for my soul.

In a sense, at first they do not compliment each other, but when told thru the voice of a lost soul it sings a bittersweet melody.

What I desire is all that I admired but only to be accompanied by pain and defeat. The cornerstone pieces are strategically placed to paint a pretty picture.

Happiness, Love, Peace, Security.

The pieces that hold the frame in place.

As I start to work my way in, there are pieces of shame and guilt that surround the core of the picture. Then as I piece together the core of the picture, it is then I see my mirror image.

 Right in the core there is pain, hatred, insecurity, defeat, and the sense of being undesirable.

A constant state of confusion and uncertainty consumes me.

The idea of never being good enough or wanted validates this image.

Does it make sense for a person to see all the goodness surrounding the picture but the inside to be a rotten core?

Least loved by the ones she desires but receives ultimate praises of hate to those love her? Such irony masked by smiles.

In what other ways can you puncture a lost soul? Grounding it 6 feet under can only encase it but it will still seep through the cracks of opportunity.

These pieces…pieces everywhere. Each a reflection of a soul once harbored by beauty and love.

Now lost, and in search of security and company.

These are the musings…the musings of a lost soul.