I dreamt of little fairies falling to their knees, with potions in their hand, smiles stretched wide accross their faces. Stairs to seperate room from room, 23 Oakdale became a lively night house, owls perched and waiting. A familiar scene I'd found myself in before. Captivated as I was by the guests, but I as no more than a walking ghost. Passing ( Read more... )

 i gave a smile to get a smile ( Read more... )

 Toronto's bathing in sunshine,
the ground is defrosting.
It casts to the wind a scent
that invokes much nostaligia.
Three years ago.
That scent. 
And everday becomes a journey,
every ounce of self counting on 
synchronicity.
 A chance encounter. 
Every footfall brings me
closer to you.
It takes all that I have
to refrain myself from asking:
do you ever visit ( Read more... )

Flooded tunnels.
There's a happy medium pouring from clenched muscles,
vibrant and clotted,
begging to illuminate bright canvas,
eager to illustrate the horrors of womanhood,
while indirectly emanating beauty and giving proof of life.
 "Thou shall not hide me any longer."
Oxygenated blood cells, 
interior conflicts battling out the truth.
What it means to ( Read more... )

under the rapid fire of your gaze

i could not contain myself in my seat

at the point of erruption

my insides spilling out my mouth

falling to my knees

with will to tell tall tales and play

pretend

live everyone else

sparing you difference

captured by the depth of your eyes

how quick you are to turn away

my lava burns your retinas

but your persistence never ( Read more... )

Andrea Lynn Ferguson