Flame to Ice

Broken love affairs

Shedding tears, like he cares.

Beaten down again, typical story.

Day dreaming of a perfect man was kind of corny.

So I stopped dreaming, and shut down inside.

Frozen and frigid, wouldn’t notice if you were by my side.

This cold, this darkness, it enveloped me.

It’s how I came to be.

Lock down, caged up, beaten alive.

Lost thoughts rushing about like a busy hive.

None I would share.

I thought nobody would care.

I spent a year in isolation of my own desire.

To loneliness I did retire.

With eyes closed tight, and a lock on my heart.

It was beginning to tear me apart.

It was then, an unexpected surprise did come.

Arriving at a friend’s home.

A fire, so brilliant, so bright, so warm.

You assured me you meant no harm.

So used to these misused words, repetitive in lies,

I melted a little, and turned to gaze into your eyes.

Glacial melting, global warming, you unfroze me.

Your smile was the key.

Slowly, I found myself smiling back, a distantly familiar gesture.

With you, there was no pressure.

These natural motions, this humanity came back,

I dropped the painful baggage, like a filthy sack.

You are the fire to my ice, the key to my heart,

It pains me to be apart.

So tell me, will you hold my heart to yours and treasure it?

Or throw it to the dogs in the pit?

Do not be another of Hades soldiers,

Don’t shrug me off with broad shoulders.

Don’t beat me down, crush me with theatrics

Don’t try to fool me with devilish tricks.

My heart isn’t something easily given,

With a clear head I am driven.

There are no rose colored glasses in my world.

Around your finger you could have me curled.

I’d rather stand by your side, hand in mine.

On earth we have limited time.

No one else I’d rather share it with.

I thought love was a myth.

Krishnu and the Apple.

In Krishnu we trust

In God we must.

Temptation grows

Our hearts grow fonder.

Belief in the unjust

The design a test

Life is sin, as death is faith

Death we bathe

Life we are filthied

Love is an elixier

In his eyes he has picked her

Untamed like a creek in the grove

The wrong apple they chose

A bond broken and renewed

Raw emotion like meat upon a fire

Drips through your soul

Infiltrated by the taps of a beat

Inspired by thus

Once.

Twice.

Don't stop.

Crow's Nest of Remorse

When I think of pain, I think of my own experiences. I think of the friends I have lost, the terror in their eyes as they realized that death was upon them, and there was nothing they could do. I also think of my years in the hospital, buried under breathing apparatuses and suffocating under a sea of medications and experimental treatments. I remember how much it tore me apart to watch the men I have loved walk away. There are many instances of such pain I do recall, and I shudder with the memories.

The type of pain that clutches at me tightly, makes it hard to breathe and brings forth tears that seemed to be pulled by invisible lines through my forehead, is the pain of others. I cannot stand to watch someone cry, knowing the unbelievable strain upon their heart is tearing them apart.That I cannot reach inside their chest cavity and rip that remorse from them, and then wipe their tears away. All I can do is hold them, hope to hold them together so that they can have the strength the face another day.

I read another blogger's post today, where she spoke of her pain over losing her husband, and how her children were dealing. I found myself in tears and wishing I could each through the screen and take away her pain. Why is it that so many people are so involved in their own plights, that they fail to see the world's? This woman spoke of herself briefly, but the majority of her post was focused on her children. I found it uplifting and inspiring.


Thank you.

Beautful Fake and Ugly Reality

Something none of us want to admit that we care about, that runs our existence. Its something that affects everyone, whether you are a hermit or a first class hoochie momma. What we own, what we can afford, categories us, and defines the person we are. Is that what we all want? To be defined by what we are wearing, what brand you have the most of, or what toys you have? What happened to two people coming together and conversing about things that truly matter? What happened to the actually important issues, rather than being controlled by the profit we make?

Our existence should be about living, truly living. Reveling in the simplistic pleasures that the world offers. Such as a spring rain fall soaking you, making you remember that you are ALIVE. Instead we are inside all day, clacking away at our keyboards, our skin growing pale and our stomach's too full. Even I am guilty of this. There are days that I wake up and remember that I could be dead tomorrow, that I am wasting my precious time.

As the weeks pass, I realize that I slowly am awakening again, my eyes slowly tearing open to the world around me. Sometimes it takes something real to come crashing into your world, to make you see that everything around you is so fake, and begin that search to find reality again.

So tell me, will you stay in your fake plastic world of happiness;

Or will you awaken and push through the ugliness of reality to find true beauty in the world we are wasting?

Who She Is.

Born in the warm season of summer, soon to be nineteen. I exist. Summer is when I am whole, and complete. You cannot go fishing, or camping in the great outdoors in the dead of winter. You cannot dirtbike, or learn to, or climb the rocky face of Comox Lake. The water is bitter and cold in the cold hours of the day, where as in summer, it's refreshing. Long story made short, I am miserable in winter. I am not the kind of girl that is impressed by a flashy restaurant ( though it's nice to go out!)or a flashy car. Take me to a place I've never been before, where sweat is the blood I seek. Miles above everyone else, hiking through the unknown, with you by my side will impress me more. I need a man who can keep up with me, but will not complain when I fall behind ( the likelihood of that) I am currently employed by a doughnut king company, full time, but no complaints. I seek to become a fictional/ documentary writer, as always been my dream. Nothing makes me happier than to capture the essence of something, with my own constructive thoughts, and being able to share it with someone, and bring them to where I was. I also want to become a behavioral psychologist, learning more about the race I am apart of. I am always yearning to learn, but sometimes I hesitate if I think I will do badly. Yes, I am a perfectionist.
Most importantly, I Am Canadian.

Why hello there

..why hello there. We met before? If not, then hello, I'd like to introduce myself. The name is Devon, though you may know of me by the name of Mayrin. First and official, though not always favorable. Now that we know each other, Happy New Year, 2010; :)