bursts of orange

We sigh pebbles of regret They trickle down only to be muffled by the carpet of wasted wants Mother always warned they would come Pillagers of youth Muddying eclectic energies She never warned of a lesser self Or she didn't know to So daughters waste away gritty magnificence For the sake of false deities Lie themselves into prosaic emotionality Because the glow frightens them As it was not foretold So daughters walk around dulled A mismatch of dormant and emerging Etheric, Astral and Mental energies Sent forth with no instruction in alignment... No instruction in being their best selves.                                                                ...

In my Doldrum… This shallow of ennui I won’t come ashore until I catch a big wave To him whose demons are cathartic to my own That we may both be awash.