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Gypsy Aurora Musings

where the streetlights become stars and fireflies ignite the night

Category

Favourites

Some of my favourites posts that I wanted to feature

A new tomorrow

Don't touch me I've done things I said I wouldn't do again My head has gone places I said I wouldn't go again I can't do this Don't touch me I've cried tears of pain Of love Of caring Of... Continue Reading →

Finding Herself

And she jumpedShe jumped to find freedomFreedom from the pain that plagued herThe incessant noise in her headThe burning inside her breaking heartBut instead broke her collarboneAnd armIn 3 placesShe jumped to escape the longing in her heartTo be anywhere... Continue Reading →

life

my words choked in cold sweat my breath shallow in my chest hands trembling with untempered anxiety attention can't focus longer than what was I just doing I don't even remember anymore pain so dark and deep my thoughts spin... Continue Reading →

Home

When coming home to familiar places they aren't familiar faces and even the buildings have now changed but the streets are the same ones you knew so some how, some HOW it still seems familiar Even though nothing in your... Continue Reading →

Broken dreams

Bittersweet pain bleeds from my fingertips thru the pen onto the page Creativity has been silenced Month of the poem doesn't inspire It only pains to read the words of others Inspiring a longing in my heart for the place... Continue Reading →

Take the Leap

And we get to a point where we reflect on what's really important in our lives What we want from life, what we are willing to accept, and aren't, and where we want to go, and what we're willing to... Continue Reading →

What’s this Life for?

If smiles and hugs could pay the bills and fill the banks The world would be a happier less selfish place for everyone People would relearn the value of being polite And it would be the common thing Instead of... Continue Reading →

My Pen Excavator

My pen etches deep in the page Thoughts flow out and I can't stop them Deep from my soul they spill And that intensity conveys through many pages Keystrokes cannot get the same effect Nor can they convey my mood... Continue Reading →

Open Letter For Christmas

There’s a small window in this room of oddities. It’s so dusty and dirty you can’t see to the outside. It doesn’t look like it’s been cleaned in months – or ever. I’m not sure where it would look out... Continue Reading →

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