Beautiful disaster.

I wonder why it comes so easily, with those i care about being my inspiration, the words move smoother, my heart grows softer and my love of writing intensifies. Certain types of people bring out better qualities in others, where as some drive a passion so fiercely, the only way to manage it is to get the feelings out, written. Take your time when crafting anything. Patience is a virtue, nor can you rush art.
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Her soft, grey eyes watering with a fresh roil of tears ready to spill, her pale cheeks flushed a bright red that touched the end of her small and slender nose. Her soft-as-a-rose-is-red lips, trembling as she let her troubles and demons swallow her whole, then come bursting forth with the force of a collapsed floodgate, utterly wracking her body with earth trembling sobs as the burden of tears flowed effortlessly down her cheeks and onto the concrete floor below.

He noticed soft, red rings faintly visible around her eyelids, managing to catch a brief glance as she lifted her sunglasses to dab away the last of her runaway tears. It broke his heart, and while she stole the newly fragmented pieces of himself, he couldn’t help but take a bit of her own fractured self in return, if only for a little while.

Here sat an emotional wreck, light brown hair parted in the middle, hung at the centre of a snow white, slender smooth, and lightly freckled back. Her thin slip of a nose threatening to release a deluge of watery emotion if she didn’t maintain control, and right now, control was the last thing she felt she had.

She says she’s a mess, that she feels like a terrible mother, she tells him that she knows she’s not, and he knows she’s not, and he insists as such when he takes her hand in his. At times, when questioned what he saw in her, he tells her this

“He sees a dedicated, caring, and compassionate, at times mistreated and yet, she is still an incredible young woman, fighting against all odds, not only with defenceless children protected in her arms, but with the wolves snapping at her tired legs and heels, all the while running uphill with the world on her back.

The immense weight of her cargo didn’t falter her steps, the light didn’t fade completely as her world turned dark. Staggering through an abysmal void of anguish and unimaginable things, she finds a rare light in the darkness. Brighter than the rest, with a warmth that feels like the midmorning, early summer sun.

The closer she gets, the more of herself she confronts and conquers. Each truth harder than the last, but by no means is it any less important the next one she faces

Light was cast over her shadowed face to reveal her smile, her tears were now preceded by a new found strength as she took the light in her delicate hand, she made her way back from the depths.

Fire had burst aflame in her heart, heated her blood that beat away the cold and then she had laughed again. Heaven knew it, and this time she felt it.

The hope, belief and joy that were once hidden behind the black wall of fear, a fear had been melted away by the wandering light. A flare-bright-light that roared to life like an inferno, touched her like an angel, walked with her, guiding while protecting her from those who would do her harm.

Posted from somewhere amongst the tangled interwebs….

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