Fairy

She sat next to the upstairs window, watching, viewing, feeling her emotions spike. Threatening her calm. Her impulsive measures, tried to apply themselves, as her thoughts exploded within her mind. She could feel her anxiety rise within her heart and, at that point, her eyes betrayed the sadness within.

If she could reach out, breaking through the window to embrace him, she truly, honestly, would. As her hand gently found the window in front of her, she felt the cold glass press its vacant feelings towards her skin. The moment, embracing, the notion, uncaring. She would scream, she’d shout, but she couldn’t as her voice could hardly even muster a murmur. She was, if she were to be honest, frozen in place.

She loved him, like no other individual upon the god forsaken world. She knew so many people, held their hands, heard their words, but they were seconds within her life of dreams and wonder. She watched as he opened the car door, as he looked back for a brief number of seconds, as his head fell and his gaze moved away from the house. From her eyes.

Slowly, the blurred motion of the moment burnt the memory into her mind. She wondered, she chastised, her heart wishing to blame herself for the situation. She could have said something, anything, but tiny voices were often so miss-understood or ignored. Helpless, void of control, with her thoughts even struggling to perceive the eventful events that had taken place.

The arguments, the shouting, the trauma of hearing their love fade into obscurity were all there. Within her memory. Her thoughts. Her being. Her eyes closed, tears forming from each, painful, word spoken, exclaimed, thrown forward and heard.

Her Mother and Father had split. Finally. Maybe. Possibly. He’d come back, try to make things better, but something was wrong, and words didn’t seem to fix anything. She was the middle ground, the person that just wanted things to remain calm. Even at her age, she knew that stability was essential. No screaming, no slamming of doors, no manipulation, or under-handed comments. She’d heard every second of their escapade of self-indulgence. To her small ears, it almost seemed like they actually enjoyed the drama. The play. The up and then inevitable down.

She moved away from the window, her head down, tears moving along her small face. She believed, she wanted wishes to be truth, but love didn’t seem to be the same as the many movies portrayed. It wasn’t a happy ever after, the romance and roses of two hearts becoming the one. She wanted to hold the both of them, together, forever, until the smiles returned. The loving words, the small kisses, the holding of a heart filled hand and the days of adventure.

She curled into a ball, on her bed, as her tears continued. She’d survive, she knew she would, with the wise head upon young shoulders being brought into the adult world a little too early. She understood most events. She’d read the forums, the adult places where the sadness of the many lurked. She realised that people simply did not resolve their problems.

Holding her pillow, a little tighter, she wondered how this would change her. She asked herself if she would also be damaged, but the small little voice within asked her to believe. She wanted to believe. Life was not perfect. Life was that jigsaw puzzle with that one missing piece. Almost perfect, fitting together with thought and precious work.

Rubbing her right eye, she caught sight of the family photo, upon the side dresser. The three of them, together, the three of them smiling upon a beautiful day. She held her hand out, trying to reach the picture as the tears appeared faster than before. It hurt, it burned her heart to pieces, thinking that they’d never be the same again.

Her tears slowed, the realisation settling into her mind, as two unhappy individuals were better off apart. They’d find new people; they’d settle and smile again. She’d smile again. Eventually. Just… not today, not on this day, despite still believing in that forever fairy tale of youth.

Words

I heard you say the words, softly speaking just as my world faded into the dreams of sleep. I heard all the words and my heart, suddenly, fruitfully, started to beat with a new rhythm. I know what they say about words, the cheap nature of the spoken tongue, but that’s perfectly fine as your actions speak far, far louder. 

I’m a believer, despite the outward charm and aloof behaviour. My heart is alive, living, throbbing and wishing to escape. It is covered in gold and that is why it’s so very, very difficult to embrace. It’s protected by the finest truths, the fabled chants and incantations. Who knew, who realised, that you would be that enchantress.

I mention the magical arts as if they realistically exist. I’m an optimist, a believer, with two feet firmly planted to the ground. I can let my imagination run riot, to fly as high as the very sky, but then return to have the deepest, most meaningful conversation you’ve ever heard. That is, of course, if I bite.

I’m light, I’m abstract, with the surface showing but a laugh and a smile. Small talk be damned, the learned lessons of easy life and shallow interaction. Come at me, come for me, let’s set the world alight and damn the very souls of the many wanderers.

I smile, just a little, my dream world embracing my thoughts. I grasp, I hold, but it’s too late. I’m slipping, falling, moving from this location to the imaginary.

I heard you, easily speaking as my world grasps the dreams of rest. I heard you say that you loved me. I heard the words stating that you needed me. That’s okay, that’s the beauty of two and, for once, I believe every single word.

 

Click HERE to Listen

Bond

Daniel felt the soft sofa against his back, as he blinked a few times, clearing his eyes of any images that were still vying for his interest. He’d pulled out the extra little section that had turned into a bed and now, right at that second, he felt the calm flow over him.

Her head, resting against his chest, remained exactly in place as he finally allowed himself permission to relax. It had taken a few days, but she was finally next to him, with her leg across his waist, along with one of her arms holding him. She felt absolutely amazing.

His breathing slowed, the calm finding him, as his mind expunged all thoughts as well as feelings. He simply, finally, just wished to relax and, more importantly, to feel her in a way that might not seem normal to many. He listened, he felt, as he allowed himself to remain open to her.

As the seconds escaped through the silence and calm, he smiled. Just a little. He allowed himself to actually feel the moment instead of being some kind of emotional tyrant. He seldom allowed his emotions freedom, as they bubbled beneath the surface, but upon this one occasion he really wished to be free. He felt the calm. He witnessed the all-encompassing clarity of the unbelievable silence between them. Neither a word spoken, in the last few minutes, yet the moment was saying more than he could ever imagine.

He listened to her breathing, the silence amazing him. She flowed gently in and out as her breath escaped and entered her. It was beautiful, as their breathing attempted to match. His breathing, longer than hers, with the depth of life joining the both of them.

He’d never, ever, in his entire life, felt as calm as he felt at that very second. His mind flared, baffled at such a moment being real, as he reminded himself to simply ease his thoughts to enjoy the moment. Her energy was, to put it simply, beautiful. He had a knack, a feeling, a realisation from a lifetime of experience, as well as mistakes, of knowing when someone, or something, wasn’t quite right. In all his moments, this was the very first time that he had felt a complete and utter calm from another.

He’d spent months, weeks, minutes, calming his own inner monologue, to a point where his very soul could remain quiet amongst the turmoil of the lives around him. He could literally stand amongst the many, and emotionally feel people. He knew that every person had an energy about them, but the day-to-day turmoil and strife of life often damaged that energy. He didn’t wish to embrace a cold heart, or even a closed heart, despite his own healthily erected maze-like vestibules. He wasn’t complicated, he simply wasn’t open to connecting to anyone that didn’t seem right. He’d share, he’d explore, he’d give, but taking wasn’t his strong point.

She squeezed his pec, adjusting her head slightly as his mind drifted to the peace surrounding him. In his mind, it was almost like they were one. He hardly knew her, had only spent a small amount of time speaking with her, yet there was no rush or heavy weighted desire to jump into bed, or explore the hideous years of pain, anguish, solitude or any other prescribed measure of oddly presented bonding. She, simply, was. She, right at that moment, had connected with him in such a way that he’d previously wished would exist.

He knew that a soul, a heart, or whatever scientific measurement placed our entire being within the context of our mind, could accomplish far more than it knew what to do. Untrained, uncivilised, the knowledge simply being out of reach, yet within a moment such as this, he could feel the energy flowing between them. He would almost call it magic, but that was for fairy tales and unicorns. He’d witnessed the energy transference from emotional vampires, but nothing quite like this positive moment.

His smile increased, his mind letting go of his thoughts. He was drifting, becoming, traversing towards a new path that he was fully willing to explore. This was beyond anything he had known before, or ideally recalled at a moment’s notice. This was freedom, the true way that two people that cared, should bond with each other.

Three

Day One.

It was love at first sight. There were glances, to the side, head forward and eventually, direct contact. I held your hand, as you demonstrated the beautiful nature of your smile. I was of course, enabling myself to take every opportunity to decrease the distance between the you and, the I.

Electricity, a flame, a moment, exploded into view as my hand met yours. Such a simple, small, moment in time that we often miss. The first touch, the first contact, that eventually moves quickly towards that first kiss. Yeah, I know, I’m moving far too fast. I cannot help myself, as my naked heart beats at a quickened rate.

You part your lips, you smile, you allow your eyes to embrace the view and we’re moving towards something special. I know, I understand, words are words but actions, pure actions, mean the world. We explore our ideals, sharing the knowledge and laughter that have formed lines upon our aged skin. It’s beautiful, it’s the magical seconds as the gap becomes even smaller.

We’re so close, the kiss looming within our imaginations and then, all at once, we embrace. Your lips upon mine, my body pressed against yours, longing and presenting the completion of the rest of our probable lives.

Day Two.

Our lips are silent, as I hold you beneath me, above me, around me and all over. The words have been spoken, the laughter said and done, with only the silent moments to come. We’ve kissed nearly every inch of each other, explored, devoured, taken and reduced ourselves to hot, mildly broken and satisfied spectacles of human endeavour.

All defences abandoned, all borders open to explore, we’ve allowed ourselves to be consumed with the passionate moments that had flickered in front of our eyes the day before. We liked, we hastened, we’re here at this point in time. As I stare at your naked flourishing body, from across the room, I cannot contain my delight at the moonlight’s gaze upon your form. You are a spectacle that knows no compare. Your words warm and enlighten my heart and I feel that we could be heading towards the inevitable..

It’s truth, it’s the ideal, it’s the very notion of being more than the solitary beings we often find ourselves. The warmth can be intoxicating. The warmth can be… everything.

Day Three.

The wounds start to form within our minds. The anxiety from the messages, those new moments of scolding, passive remarks resound within our mind. We thought that we could be something new, something else, but the years before us, seemed to have poisoned the good that could have been. We didn’t resolve, we didn’t explore, when we had the chance upon our lonely, solitary moments.

We thought that yet another would resolve the problems of the other. It’s a lesson, another lost soul, abandoned and blamed for a vapid range of reasons. My heart hurts, my head aches and the heart yearns. Holding the other pillow, wishing it was you, as I feel the poisonous words expressed by the both of us, invading my thoughts. I could have said, we should have said, we would have done but instead, we are apart. Too soon, too quick, too easy to fall into the fast-paced embrace of a new moment in time. Maybe next time, it will be different, as I fail to even remotely change my own point of view. I ignore, I resist, the thought of resolving any of the inner conflict that resides within my understanding of events.

--

To me, you see, the entire world is living at break neck speed and when you really think about it, in the great scheme of things, ten years could simply be equated to the math of three, singular, solitary days. If only we’d spend three days resolving, instead of trying to find someone to patch over our individual life learned faults.

Avalanche

Push me. Nudge me. Press gently. I know that you eventually will, one day, upon a given second of decadence and impudence. It’s perfectly fine, even acceptable, especially under the current climate. You see, to you and many others, I’m the calm, friendly, crazy one that sits in the corner amusing people. I’m harmless, mostly.

I’ve always disliked injustice, that intolerance of others, or the basic fact that some people can be so absolutely blind that they simply do not, cannot, see their own nature. I’ve been there, the blind workings of my own beliefs hampering my progression but, through failure, one can finally see through to the clearing.

The calm, the knowing, the understanding soul of a person that has seen and been many, many differing things to a few or more. I know, we hopefully all realise, that our lives are but the smallest embers of a fire that will soon be replaced for other flickers of light. We have mere seconds upon the minute of our lives, to live and repeat the same said offerings of life.

We’ve cried, we’ve fallen, risen and began anew. I’ve paid whatever needed to be paid, for my crimes, yet the accused are still the accusers. It makes me smile, even though I feel that small tainted speck of fear still left within me. The fear of being miss-understood or, even, miss-quoted. We are but the words from someone else’s lips. You could be a monk within the region of love and prosperity, but still be the demon to which is spoken of to the many.

The thing with life, is that you can be pushed, again and again, until you form your own avalanche. It’s unstoppable, it’s poetic, prophetic, to fall upon your own knees as you realise what's about to happen. You take the punches; you grasp at the roots you’ve planted, and you roll forward.

You know that you’ve given your pound of flesh, the wise words of many being replaced with your own inner teachings and knowledge, as you gather speed. You leave them behind, you close the door, the ghosting of a few to become the many positive words within. You cast them aside, you move them away from your life, growing, as you feel your own strength ascending from within.

You are the storm, you are the rain and you are, most of all, your own sunshine within your smile. You’re beautiful, a grace filled spectacle of splendour, a crescendo of impending atomic power. Be all you can be, as you roll forward into the life and situations that you need. That you control. That you embrace with your arms and lips. You are the avalanche of your own life.

Freedom, through the chaos of your entire life exploding around your very eyes, can be liberating as well as exhilarating. You can step aside, you can embrace, you can view all of your own changes and, through the devastation of your own fingers grasping, the changes expressed through your own actions. Be, just be, all you can be. It’s simple. The hours behind you are lost. The moments in front of you are to be, but right now, rip apart everything you can no longer tolerate or appreciate. It’s your time, it’s our time, to thrust ourselves into the danger of finding freedom. There’s a sacrifice to be made, with one step leading to a fall, as well as a sudden rush of fear.

Intoxicating, once you start, realising that you could have made the change at any point. Procrastination is not your friend, neither your enemy, with your own heart and mind often holding you back through fear and impending anxiety. Damn all of those things. Hold your own damn hand, push your own shoulders and most of all, beyond your eyes closing, hold on tight and feel, enjoy, love the very avalanche as long as it’s the very moment… you desire.

Fluff

Daniel, sat upon the old bench, looked out into the calm view ahead of him. The mild breeze, of course, reminded him that it was a positive decision to bring his jacket. The view, including the sea in front of them, featured a few perched boats upon the sand, as well as the various seagulls flying from point to point.

He’d been visiting this spot for the last few months, seeing as his Grandfather, Mr. Potters, was slowly advancing in age. He knew that time was precious and, upon each visit, he simply loved listening to all of the various stories that his family member presented. Many stories, on occasions, repeated themselves. He didn’t mind. He didn’t care, as the insight into another’s life was precious to him. Important. The essential moments taken out of his day, to brighten both of their lives.

Daniel’s Grandfather, sat beside him, chewed the sticky toffee bar whilst making various grunting noises. How he managed to chew such a bar, with a mouth full of false teeth, was beyond Daniel. Either way, the man genuinely seemed to enjoy the treat. Daniel smiled, glancing to his side, “You enjoying that bar, Grandad?” The man nodded, as he stuck a finger into his mouth, no doubt finding a little bit of toffee stuck to his gum.

“I am lad, I am. Good stuff this. Your Grandmother used to buy me a few bars when she went shopping. I do miss her!”

“I know Grandad, I know!”

Thomas, Daniel’s Grandfather, removed the fingers from his mouth, then rubbed the slobber over his jeans. Daniel shook his head slightly, amused, knowing fully that Thomas had no time for pleasantries of certain kinds, as he’d lived his life, paid his debts and endured the pain.

As Daniel returned his gaze to the view ahead of him, his Grandfather stood, placing the chocolate wrapper into his coat pocket. Then, for some random reason, Thomas started to empty his trouser pockets into his jacket. Item by item. Moment by moment. Then, once finished, Thomas pulled out the trouser pocket linings and started to slap the edges. Daniel watched as various bits fell from the lining. Fluff, random bits, string and more fell away.

Bemused, Daniel looked at Thomas, “What are you doing, Grandad?” he asked.

With a smile, Thomas returned the lining into the pocket, then sat down.

“I have another lesson for you Son!  Your mind is like your pocket. When you’re born, you don’t have pockets but when you do get them, they’re clean, empty, with the following years adding strength and understanding, to hopefully reduce the holes that might appear within those pockets. You don’t want holes in your pocket lad. Nope!”

Thomas, once again, picked at his teeth, eventually continuing, “You see, each bad idea, harsh word from another or our own mouth, creates fluff. Your pocket is supposed to be a safe place, that keeps you warm. Your hands are the working ways of your soul. You write, you create, you work. What happens when your nails are covered in fluff, lad? Can’t have that.”

Daniel nodded, expecting more.

“You have to clean your pockets Son. Remove the fluff. Clean pockets, clean mind. Imagine if you met a lovely lady? Chance would be a fine thing, with your haircut lad…”

Daniel laughed, as Thomas continued, “You wouldn’t want to hold her hand, when your own hand is covered in fluff now, would you? She’d think that you were a scamp. Can’t have that. Clean pockets, clean mind, fix the holes and keep your pockets safe and secure. You’ll have a better life that way!”

Daniel nodded, fully understanding the small adage spoken succinctly by his Grandfather. He’d never actually thought about it before and, if he were honest, he’d never checked his pockets for fluff, let alone tried to discover the fluff within his own mind.

Turning to his Grandfather, with a great big smile, as he reached into his pocket to grab another snack, he spoke, “Thank you, I shall keep my pockets clean from this point forward!”

Thomas pushed Daniel’s shoulder with his, “Shut up lad, and gimme’ another toffee bar!”

Click this Text to Listen

Everything

There comes a time, within a person’s life, where they’re ready to actually embrace a soul. We’ve done all of the things we’ve done, experienced most of what a limited life can offer, with new frontiers being the only thing we long for. It’s a heavy subject, I’ll admit it, but some things are worth exploring.

We’ve made love, we’ve held someone as close as we could possibly manage, yet still felt disconnected. We drift, we embark, we secretly realise that the soul next to us is not the soul that we wish to evaluate any longer. The outward view, our own eyes constantly looking to ourselves to create validation, eventually and finally wants something that will last.

At a younger age, I’d advise any singular person to perfect themselves. We’re talking physically, emotionally and, if you believe, spiritually. Don’t rule anything out. The world is to drink from. The wealth of knowledge is there to be understood. Ignore the politics and politicians that wish to control society’s impending chaos. Forget the religions of woke agendas, or the definitions of the feminist/toxic masculinity crowd, as you instead come to an understanding of the sexes yourself. Religion is no longer valid within the society’s we inhabit. Controversial statement? Yes. Triggered? Why?  It’s an opinion. They differ, they change day to day, which means that an opinion should never have any control over your stability and inner peace.

Be… everything, find that balance, as balance ensures that you can hopefully see the world through caring, understanding eyes. Sure, understanding is one thing, but those eyes of yours should eventually understand how the world works and, through that, the manipulations of society, adverts, people, loved ones and the closest lovers can simply flow away from you.

Now, let’s return to the topic. How close can you get to someone? Can we really communicate, without words, gestures, or even from another room? Crazy, right? We’re made of energy, so why not. We’ve heard stories where people have known of events, as they’ve happened. We’ve finished off our friend’s conversations and, of course, we’ve felt their pain the moment they’ve walked in. We’ve undressed others with our eyes, but how about undressing a soul, for a change?

I have categorical proof that we can speak to another from many miles away. No, sorry, I’m not insane. How does radio work? We are beings of light, supposedly, allowing such darkness into our hearts that I can understand why we’re barely able to breath above the waters we create for ourselves. Think. Imagine. Place the news aside. Switch off the television or tablet. Sit by your window and look out into the world. Think, explore, travel and communicate.

Heck, it will at least provide each of us with a certain amount of calm, that we usually do not even know exists. Disconnect, to connect. Breath, touch, embrace with the aura of our minds. It’s not madness. It could even be called a scientific experiment. Tell someone that you love them, from a thousand miles away. Hold their soul within your hands, imagine that soul as a living, breathing entity and hold it close to your thoughts. Every single thing we do, every intention, has a repercussion. If you think those solitary thoughts, then that might actually become what you are. If we fear, then we manifest.

Yeah, I know, I might be coming across as a crazy person. I’m not. I’m just open to exploration. I ‘want’ to touch another soul. I’ve embraced many against my chest. I’ve held, I’ve loved and I’ve felt. At no point, did I explore further than the usual day to day shenanigans. Why not? We have nothing to fear, other than our own fear. We are powerful entities, even if we refuse to believe so. We can cause devastation, pain, anger and sorrow. The next moment, we can touch, tame, tease and kiss someone into a loved frenzy of connective energy. We are, or at least can be, everything and more.

Click This Text to Listen

Chaos

Twisting the cork, her fingers grasping the bottle as hard as possible, she winced, knowing exactly what would happen. The bottle brought forward a loud pop, the cork flying across the room as the Prosecco flew out from the bottle. Shrieking like a crazy person, she moved forward and poured the liquid into the two glasses, trying not to splash everything and everywhere.

Happy with the devastation, she stood upright, bottle to her side, nodding her head. “At least I didn’t get it everywhere!”  He laughed, a genuine laugh, greatly amused by the events unfolding in front of him. She was, in his eyes, his everything. She wasn’t perfect, to which he also alluded to his own person. Neither of them was supposed to be such a thing. Neither perfect, neither always wrong, but both perfectly right for each other.

If he could do all of this again, he wouldn’t, as he might miss the adventures of tomorrow, or the next day. He had the memories, the moments, the first kiss of many kisses and more. She moved her hair away from her eyes, placing the hair behind her ears. He leant forward, collecting his newly furbished wine glass. Sipping, gently, he simply looked up into her beautifully suggestive eyes. He’d always insisted that they called to him, from the very first day they’d met. The darkness within, being shielded by a smile that could melt the most stoic heart.

She looked at him, sitting there, with his gloriously presented jaw line, amongst the other facets that kept her awake that little bit longer at night. She’d gotten used to spending her nights alone, in her cold bed. Then, for some odd reason, he’d arrived. Through the chaotic mess of stability that she called her life, happy to be single, happy to ignore her own heart, he was there.

She’d tried all of her usual tricks. The past histories of events. The men, the few that managed to attract her heart, leaving, being held, allowed to let go. She’d played the games, the victim, the innocent, the avenging force or the survivor. None of that worked. He’d seen through all of it and, for some reason, pushed all of that aside, then carried her to his bed to hold her close. Her rubbish, her trash of events, meaningless to him. Her nights of crying or days of screaming at the world, all but the view from a rear-view mirror.

She collected her solitary glass from the table, also sipping the wine, as her mind sang the cacophony of words that seemed to betray her calm. She had her moments, that inner doubt, that seemed to creep from within. She couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t nasty, as she kept a moderate amount of calm, but still had to engage her demons.

“Why are you with me?” she asked, stepping over the small glass table, to straddle him on the sofa. She placed the wine glass back onto the table behind her, leaning back, to return her eyes to his. She smiled, the vulnerability starting to show ever so slightly.

He listened to her words, knowing exactly what was happening, despite being asked the same question numerous times over the last few weeks. He didn’t wish to re-iterate such things, but explanations were required and that was exactly what he would provide. He also didn’t wish to play games, to push aside emotions, feelings, or the traditions that were played within each and every relationship, despite wishing for life to proceed.

He kissed her, with a small kiss, a quick kiss, that still expressed meaning, before answering, “I could use a thousand different words. I could say that you have a beautiful smile, or that the things you say make me laugh, or that you have a backside that I just want to grab.  When all of that is said and done, I look at you, or I hear you… and I just don’t want to be anywhere else. It’s as simple as that. Anything else is pointless.”

She smiled, moving forward to kiss him in return for his answer. He returned her smile, as he wrapped his arms around her, moving the both of them from the sofa. Scooping her up, holding her tight against his chest, she moved her legs around him and felt his warmth.

She placed her head to the side of his, as he walked towards the stairs. He knew that he had one thing to do, with that one thing being to love the woman that he was with. Within that, he had to withstand the storms of life, to be all that he could be, as well as understand that within her, from a lifetime of events, existed a chaos unlike any other. He accepted his task with a smile. After all, the best loves could often arrive from the ever-expressive lives of the colourfully chaotic.

 

---

Apologies for vanishing for awhile. The world seems to be going a little insane.

Ghost

There’s a voice, resounding within my head and, possibly, heart. I can hear you, whispering, just out of reach and recognition. I know that it sounds odd, maybe even bizarre, but I don’t wish for the voice to ever, never ever, stop.

My friends say that I should listen to their advice. Heed their words. Listen to their notions and oceans full of their way of doing things. They’re all the same, uttering the remarks with their side glances. I see them but once I hear your voice, I fall into that silent, deafening, trance that holds me together.

My heart aches, it made its stake, paid the price and ventured into the gamble of you. I lost. With each new day, with each new morning, we place our bets and roll the dice. It is inevitable. It’s decided for us. We’re trapped amongst the daily grind and workings of the modern world. We’d escaped, even for the smallest of times. We laughed, we loved like that fire filled furnace, our energy being each other’s smile and exposed modesty.

The way we held each other, the moments we shared, unlike any other couple’s beating hearts. We were within the unison of souls, the ending somewhere off within the distance of our view. I could have held your hand until my very skin faded to dust but, instead, the world decided. For us. With us. Against us.

I sat upon the grass, saying goodbye to your very soul, feeling your soft fingertips embrace my face one last time. It hurt like hell. It burned my very soul. It closed my eyes to the world and places we’d visited. I found no solace, no solution, no way forward until the day you spoke to me again.

Our crazy life. The moments. Eventually, one day, I’ll escape and run away from all of this, everything about you, but until then, I’ll exist with the ghost of you by my side.

Maze

I know that I can fly, as I’ve seen my very own wings expand to feel the wind within my soul, despite the ways of the world. I feel that what once was, will never, ever, be again. I’m grounded, far more stable than I’ve ever been, despite the wondering motions and notions of my very thoughts. I’m often a blank slate, ready to be written upon, wiling to participate and prevaricate if it brings a smile to your face.

I’m wondering and wandering through the thoughts of life, seeing the lefts, feeling the rights and moving forward no matter what’s said. I have little choice. Move, step forward, or be left behind. Life is an ever expanding, changing, energy filled maze and I’m understanding more and more with each given week. I’m glad, ecstatic, over the moon and feeling the universe, as I’m still allowed a new day whenever I open my morning eyes.

The mighty hedges that I once looked over and upon, are rising and rising as the days and nights become colder, as well as longer. There’s an age for all things, a moment for all words, with my own maze reminding me that the end might appear sooner than I’d actually like. We’re frail, we’re mortal, with red true blood that can pour from our veins despite our grasping hands fighting more than they really should. There’s karma awaiting each of us, depending on whichever route we explore and, more often than that ‘not’ we’re told about, some escape this world with their sins never admonished.

Some with to escape this type of world. The ups, the downs, turning into lefts and even more rights. I hear your smile despite no words leaving your lips. We’re old enough, wise enough, wicked and silly enough to read each other’s minds. We can run, we can hide, but the maze continues, nonetheless.

There’s only one way out of this place for any of us. We could own the very world, the fastest cars, the most flash items created by magnificent hands, but we’ll still leave all of it behind. I’m not searching for the exit, despite the creeping hands of fate reaching for my very mind, body and soul.

I no longer care about the trivial moments of my past and, as we’re often reminded, the future is tomorrow and seldom even registers. I’m happy to still explore, with each breath being paid attention to. I’m eager, willing, ready and able to run through the many twists to find the turns. To the left is a heart, to the right is sadness and most of all, they will all eventually fade.

I’m happy. I’m secure. I’m not afraid and that’s the most anyone could ask for. There are times when I even place my hand onto the wall in front of me, to simply find the emotion within. To feel. I then smile, knowing, understanding, that each day is a gift and worth every second. I don’t care if I cry, or feel hurt, as long as I can continue forward. It’s all that matters. Time is precious. Time is vast. Time is all we have. Laugh, giggle, even use the word titter if it raises a smile.

Although I spend most of my time alone, I understand that the life we embrace is the one that’s intended for us. We can change the direction, we could re-direct our energies towards a new path, but that’s mostly up to us and the people or person that stands beside.

I’m going to explore tonight, within my dreams, ready to face the twists and turns of life. Smile, if and whenever you can, because as I’ve mentioned, there’s only one singular way that any of us are destined to escape each of our mazes.

Origami

The Master watched the students, reflecting, concentrating, deciding which lesson to teach them next. The silence surrounded him, with the pristine perfection of silent breathing calming each of them, as well as embracing their love for each other. They would become the future, the present being the very moment within his mind, as he taught them as much of his life’s wisdom. He was their catalyst to understanding, the appreciation, the worth of thoughts to each of them.

He knew that they would never become the same creature, as the standard life intended. They’d be soul based individuals, seeking knowledge and clarity from whatever or wherever they managed to be. Born, created, to flow through the world as one, as they witnessed the cruelty and brutality of the world. He unfolded his legs, standing, to open the drawer a few metres behind him. The twenty students, all calm, still reflecting upon their given task of removing all thought from within, remained silent.

From the drawer the Master produced twenty-one sheets of crisp, clean paper.

“Students,” he commanded, as each of them opened their eyes to address their attention towards him, “I have paper for each of you as we’re to learn a new lesson!”

The Master, returning to the same mat, sat down and folded his legs. Relaxing, focusing, he selected the top sheet of paper. With poise, as well as certainty, he removed a pen from his shirt and started to write a selection of words that appeared within his mind. He had seen so many events, during his life, despite his pious understanding and beliefs. He had heard words of pure hatred, as well as violence, that surrounded the world outside of the sanctuary. Each of the moments stayed with him.

He wrote his words, selecting them with intent. As the pen moved, the words appeared upon the page. Anger, danger, fear, doubt, selfishness, failure and ego all appeared upon the page. Lifting and turning the paper, he presented the inscriptions to his students as they all focused to view his written words.

“You can see,” he explained, “that I have written words that express negative values or learned exposure to the outside world. I can never be perfect. I can fail, falter and fall. As long as we are aware of such moments, we can become something more than our thoughts!”

He could see the enthusiasm increase upon their young faces. Eager to learn, needing enlightenment, with each of them yearning to understand the world beyond the high, sweet, sweet walls. They watched as he folded the paper, over and over again, with edges poking forward as well as to the sides and in all directions until, finally, the Master presented them with a folded impression of a bird like Crane. They smiled, the wonder lighting their small faces, as each of them suddenly wished to learn such a hidden skill.

“There are many forms that a page can create. There are many moments that will form your memories. Just like this page upon my words reside, I can take the pain, the negative aspects of my thoughts, to fold them into a new understanding. A new beauty. Words upon your mind’s page, can be sculptured, shaped, reformed into a delight of wonder.”

He looked at each of them in turn, wishing for his understanding and lesson to settle upon their minds for further understanding.

“Your anger, fear, doubt and pain can be understood, even appreciated, to make your mind stronger, healthier, as you overcome all of your own obstacles. You can then create a new person within you that understands your life as well as another’s life. You can fold your words together and create magic!”

The students looked at each other, their mouths open in wonder and belief in their master’s words. The Master smiled, nodding towards his Student’s appreciation for such a simple notion of thinking. It was a time of fun, of learning, for each of them. They would all write their own fears and doubts upon the page, as he once again stood to hand each of them a page of clear paper. They would learn, they would understand as each of them were taught the art of Origami.

Rainbow

Within my life, when taking into account all of the escapades, seconds, adventures and understanding revaluations, there’s always been rainbows. It sounds odd when you add the word ‘rainbow’, to a sentence as supposedly meaningful as the one above, but it works. We’ve all seen one or, at least, I hope that we have. When was the last time you noticed a rainbow?

I was a youngster when I first witnessed my first spectacle of colour. Bright and blue eyed, the world seemingly still a small place, with an imagination that has only just started to settle. The world presented a slice of beauty, a moment of wonder, with many questions quickly following.

Now that I’m older, I could state that we could all be a rainbow. Colourful, majestic, spreading smiles whenever we appear, but that would be far too obvious a statement. Whereas, as I think about it, maybe we are just like a rainbow.

The rainbow is an optical illusion. Beautiful, wondrous, with so many differing colours formed of red, orange, yellow, green, blue and even violet. Just like humans, who also present an optical illusion, can often be somewhat different once you move closer. One person observing from a slightly different angle, will see something different, even when the next person is but moments away.

Some pretend to hold colours as an aspect of beauty, yet hair colours often gather scorn, or worse. We all adore beauty, but push away differences such as a larger nose, with such blatant ease. We are all different, with many simply trying their hardest to be exactly the same as the next person. Life needs to be diverse. We need to be our true selves to enjoy what life offers.

The rainbow is not an object, with no real solid form that you can hold against yourself, along with no actual pot of gold being found at the end. Maybe this is a tale for life’s energy. The more you chase, the more life moves away from you. Unobtainable dreams are to be dreamt of, but wouldn’t realistic dreams be better accomplishments for each of us? We all chase the pot of gold, often forgetting that some plans need to take time and energy.

We are now living within a time where the colour of our rainbow skin defines us. Words such as privileged, supremacy, as well as wondering which lives matter, consumes some of our daily thoughts. Where has the beauty of witnessing a rainbow gone? Life simply does not need to be more complicated than wishing to smile. We work hard, we ask for safety and shelter from our own working hands, to which we provide for ourselves (mostly).

Each colour of a rainbow sits alongside its neighbour. The red cares not that blue is blue, or yellow is next to green. It matters not that the rainbow is not an actual object, as it simply exists upon a given day. We as people, as individuals, exist and can easily remove the colour variable or differences, to then simply accept whatever, for whatever it might be.

There is no issue. There should be no violence. There need not be demonstrations or life ending. All we need is to accept differences, to see beauty in any of the beautiful colours. We need to turn off the televisions. We need to escape the media. We should, upon a magical day, rise from our safety, venturing forward to easily, simply, lovingly, go outside to see all of the wondrous rainbows that are beside us each and every single day. Life has been complicated to an unnecessary degree.

I asked you when the last time you noticed a rainbow was because, as time moves forward, we need reminding… that rainbows exist.

Angels

At the beginning of the universe, as we have come to realise, there existed the Angels. They were described as being the most benevolent beings that ever existed. We know this, due to the stoic tablets that were found in the year twenty twenty-four.

They stood upon the very clouds above, majestically, fondly, watching the first moments of life appear upon our very planet. They’d already witnessed the growth of a billion stars, a hundred galaxies and more. Their joy, their glowing light, providing the splendorous growth to which we now fully understand.

They watched, they found our world foundering, faltering, failing to progress due to the missing element of souls. For everything, a balance. For all of us, a time. With each planet they had visited, they’d witnessed the emergence of intelligence along with the fascination to adapt and grow. Upon our world, they waited patiently. A thousand years, which was but the blinking of an eye. A second, lasting an eon. Their joy, their delight, outweighing such human notions of impatience or boredom. Such emotions, such words, were human in nature and thus did not even exist.

The Angels, flying with their wings, wished for our world to flourish, to become an abundance of prosperity, despite knowing that such an event may never take place. Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and Abaddon, sat upon the mightiest mountain conversing on how to fulfil this world’s intentions. All of them agreed, each of them accepting the same chose, apart from Abaddon. He, apart than the others, simply did not wish to abandon his life. He procrastinated, presenting many, many questions, until he accepted his fate.

Each Angel, each in turn, turned themselves into millions of precious atoms. Their lives, their intentions, seeding the world with their majesty and awareness. Humanity was formed. The human race appeared from the darkness, to embrace the light. From the very essence of each Angel, we were created to fulfil this planet’s majesty. We were to become the light.

Upon the day the Angels gave themselves, Abaddon held his anger within. His heart, tainted at having to extinguish his own soul, poisoned the human race with an ego, with the many segregated lines of life. Each new soul, trapped within a shell defined by external sources. Manipulated, tainted, but bestowed with the capacity to overcome such jaded views and understandings.

--

The professor closed the New Genesis book, partially ending the lesson for each of the interested individuals in front of him. He smiled, his entire life being lived with certain notions, with the understanding of events being broken, once the world understood humanities gifts. He walked from behind the table, to sit against the front edge, as he addressed all of them with his final words of the day.

“We all have the capacity to be an Angel and, when you really think about it, you cannot deny that statement. On the day of your birth, your parents looked at you in such a way that you could never, ever, be anything but an Angel.  This was what was intended for each of us. We can shine. We can virtually fly. We are not defined by the learned traits of our parents as we can change and adapt. We can seek understanding, within the closed environments of our world. We can become far more. It’s only the learned hatred and greed that taints our chances to do just that, to become real life Angels!”

See

Frank, moving the white stick left to right, slowly moved along the walkway. He’d walked along the same path for many, many years, with today being a special day. It was his birthday. Normally he’d have company, a family member or even a neighbour that would help him on his way, but today was a day when he simply wished to buy cakes for everyone at home.

He’d called a few days early, ensuring that there would be enough cakes upon the day, with today being that exact day. Ten eclairs, four iced doughnuts, as well as the delectable assortment of cream cakes. The stick continued to swipe left and right, searching for anything that might block his path. He wasn’t blind, as he still retained a small amount of sight from one eye. Tunnelled. A small, fine, reduced view of the world.

As he moved forward, thinking of which cake he’d gloriously devour, he felt a hand upon the side of his arm. He stopped, moving his head to the side, despite not being able to quickly focus upon whomever had stopped him, “Hello?” he asked, with surprise.

“Hey Mr. Thomas, It’s Francis from down the street. Can I walk with you?”

“Yes, you can young Man, yes you can!”

Frank did like Francis, as he was an upstanding, genuine sounding, young individual with his head strapped firmly to his shoulders. As they moved forward, Frank placed his hand onto Francis’ arm, allowing him to move forward that bit faster. Guided, trusting, happy for the assistance.

“Tell me, young man, what have you been up to?”

“I’ve been researching for my biomedical engineer’s exam. It’s been fun, but tiring!”

Frank smiled, finding the young man’s enthusiasm a breath of fresh air. He’d spoken to Francis on many occasions. A bright mind, a young mind, eager, willing, still seeing the world for what it could or even should be.

“Well, you keep on doing what you’re doing!”

They both stepped forward a few more steps, as Frank heard the silence between them. He wasn’t a backward person when moving forward, so simply engaged,

“Talk to me Francis. What would you like to ask?”

Francis felt awkward, but had been meaning to ask the question, sat within his mind, a few times. He couldn’t ignore the question, but needed to learn or even try to appreciate the possible answer from Frank.

“It’s an odd question, but how do you stay so upbeat and happy?  You never ask for a thing, yet you always want to help and offer words of wisdom!”

Frank laughed, lowering his head as he reflected upon the question. He could, probably, find a hundred different things to say, but instead he just let whatever sat within his mind appear from his mouth.

“Francis, you two options for the various things that happen to you in life. Ignorance or acceptance. My eyes left me when I was ten years old. I was a happy child, full of energy, just like you, but my sight wasn’t who I am or what I’ve become. I came to accept the situation for what it is. You can spend your entire life with sight, yet still be blind. You can hear everything around you, but still be deaf!”

Francis paused for a second, taking a few moments for his words to settle into the young Man’s mind.

 

“You will never be your religion. You will never be the colour of your skin or the sexuality that you state that you are, as you are the words you say and the thoughts that you think. Everything else is blinding you, deafening you to what your heart really wants. Every word, precious. Every action, worth something. Right or wrong. I lost my sight but gained an understanding. When you switch off the lights all that you have left is your sense of touch and the words people use. I decided to stay bright. I decided to light my own world.”

Francis, listening to each word, felt the emotion rise within him. He’d known full health, full ability, so couldn’t truly understand how the loss of sight would impact his life. Frank felt the emotion from the young man, as they both stopped.

“Francis. We adapt. We’re human beings. Take something from us and we will replace what’s missing with acceptance and understanding. Well,” Frank started to laugh as he finished the sentence, “Most will!”

They both continued to move forward, crossing the road towards the Bakery. Frank mussed over his thoughts, wondering what life would have been like if the events didn’t happen as they did. He didn’t regret any actions, any of his decisions, since that time.

“Thank you!” stated Francis, as the both of them stood in front of the store.

“That’s okay Francis. Remember, no matter what you see, or hear, the powers that be wish for you to be deaf, as well as blind, to the working ways. Ignore the media. Keep thinking for yourself and no matter how blind you think you are, listen to the words and watch their actions. Eventually, hopefully, you will always be able to see!  Take care young man.”

Francis squeezed Frank’s arm, nodding to himself, as he turned and walked away. Frank, smelling the sweet pastries inside the store, also turned to face the entrance. No matter what happened in his life, he didn’t need to see the cakes in front of him, as he could smell and imagine them just fine.

Lesson

“What would you say if I called all of you expendable cattle and idiots?

Two of the attendees looked at each other, mildly perturbed by suddenly being insulted.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame you for being what you are, but that’s why you’re here as I’m going to teach the six of you a lesson. You want to know how the world works? I’m going to show you.”

Derek, moving a chair ever so slightly to face each of them, sat and crossed his legs. He’d seen this  room over a hundred times, enjoying each visit, each time watching as the attendants worked from their ever so subtle sleep. Their perfection, possibly, finally being freed. They were trapped, strangled, subdued by the constant barrage of media influence and corruption.

He looked at each of them, in turn, with the silence of the pristine room speaking volumes. Each participant, sheep, walking the very same steps as the many before them. Moderately self-obsessed, willing to conform and consume, as long as the world didn’t notice them. Derek smiled. Each candidate, actually wishing and wanting to be noticed, but each afraid to even remotely step forward in case their world turned against them.

They all had their designations. No names. No truths to be seen or thoughts concatenated to create any form or image. The first two, wearing business suits, were simply called number One and number Two. Uptight. Yet to relax and see the fun nature of being awake whether their lights were switched off or on. Then there was number three, the blonde, the beauty and probably brains, wishing to move forward and be all that she could be. Number four seemed defiant, the scowl giving away his instant dislike, his troublesome glare to be enjoyed over the next few minutes and, finally, Five and Six. The random creatures sending themselves forward to possibly find a solution to their life’s disadvantages.

Derek relaxed, his instant opinions for all of them settling into his thoughts. He wasn’t often wrong, if at all, whilst being obviously aware of such possibilities. This was life, his real actual life, where facts were needed before the fiction grabbed hold of his thoughts. He stood, walking over to the wall, only to turn and rest against it They all wanted to exist within the new ‘woke’ world that had suddenly appeared before them. Ten years, even five years, could make a person move from being within the limelight, to being left far, far behind.

He waved a hand and the auto-gesture feature sprung to life, showing the first slide upon the screen.

“Okay. What do we have here?”

Each participant stared at the screen. A single, solitary, blue square displayed in front of them. The words, ‘blue’ and ‘red’, appearing below the square. First to reply, were Five and Six. Their eager smiles betraying their innocence of what was to happen. One and Two, replied immediately after. Derek stared at Three, knowing that she wanted to answer with the correct reply, while being hesitant. She knew that something wasn’t quite right. Four, on the other hand, now fully relaxed, yawned a small yawn and replied with the word blue. Finally, after number Three looked at Four, Three replied with the answer of 'blue'.

Derek moved from the wall, satisfied, knowing exactly how this would now unfold.

“Okay. Correct. It is a blue square. Could you all now switch on the bands that we gave you when you arrived?”

In turn, each of them raised their arm and pressed the small red button that enabled the devices. Four, actually now responding, straightened himself in his chair. Derek, finally, knew that he had all of their attention.

“Okay, once again, what colour is the square?”

Each of them, in turn, replied with the correct answer. Blue.

“Wrong!”

Derek, placing his hand into his pocket, removed a small device with a button. He pressed the device and, immediately, each candidate received a small shock. All six of the candidates literally jumped out of their skin, not even remotely expecting the result from their answer.

“Let’s try this again. What colour is the square?  I can answer for you. It’s red!”

Number One and Two looked at each other, smiling, as they both replied with the answer of ‘red’. Their smirk, written all over their faces, quickly fuelled Five and Six to reply with the same answer. Three, once again looked at Four for a possible reply. Four shook his head slightly, willing her not to give in. “Red!” she replied, to the disappointment of Four. Each of them, including Derek, stared at Four. The last to answer, the defiant one amongst them, not willing to engage with the natural order of things.

“It’s blue!” Four replied, with defiance.

“Wrong!” replied Derek, pressing the button.

Once again, all six of them received the shock and, as the effects faded, One and Two glanced at Four.

“Let’s try again. The answer is ‘Red’!”

Derek listened to their replies, all of them falling in line, apart from Four. He leaned forward, smiling.

“The answer is Blue. It will always be Blue!”

Derek, laughing slightly, turned and moved to the display.

“This is and always will be, red. It is red because I’ve said it’s red and that is your new way of thinking. You will not resist, and you will be fucking listen!”

Derek, his aggression now apparent and written across his face, walked from the screen right up to number Four. Leaning in, placing his face in front of Four’s face, he asked the question again.

“What colour is the square?”

Four, feeling the aggression and through gritted teeth, replied.

“It is Blue!”

Derek pressed the button with all six, again, receiving the shock. Derek returned to his chair, listening, as Three asked Four to correctly answer the damn question.

“Come on man,” asked Five, “just say ‘red’!”

“No. It’s BLUE!”

Another shock hit the six of them.

“It… is… BLUE!”

Another shock.

The other five participants, all facing Four, echoed their dissatisfaction with Four’s answer.

“Please, just say red and we can move on!”

Four, looked at each of them, as another shock hit his wrist.  He closed his eyes and whispered to himself, “It’s blue,” but then raised his voice, “but it’s now red!”

Derek, finally happy with the result, once again stood from his chair, slowly clapping his hands.

“Well done. Finally. This is how life works. You all, every single one of you, eventually conform and fall in line to the way things work and function. Only ‘Four’ could see the correct illogical answer. You think that you stand together, but in reality, you are all apart and controlled by the very media you trust. The more you read, the more you obey and fit into the hatred and idiocy of life!”

Derek smiled, the message firmly settling into each of the candidate’s minds and realisation.

“You see, you think you have a choice, but even if you see the world for what it is, you will be labelled with many, many offending labels. Weird. Odd. Idiot. The world is a messed up, jumbled, quagmire of desolate greed and solitude. Do not believe what you are being told. Find the facts. Find the answers, even when you’re being blatantly told that the blue square, right in front of your very eyes, is red!”

Derek paused, for dramatic effect, watching each of them sitting silently, perfectly still.

“Well done Four and somewhat Five. You could see that there was something wrong with the answer. One, Two, Five and Six… you need to attend next week’s session, as you’re not children and won’t ever receive a fucking Gold star for being the first to reply with the wrong answer!”

The session, over with, the moment, explained.

“Thank you for attending. The lesson is over.”

Release

The darkness surrounding her seemed comfortable, relaxing, with one of her senses obscured from the current events. She needed these moments. She craved them, desired them, as well as feeling them within the silent moments of her day. Buttons, to be pressed. Feelings, to be experienced.

Her working week was now over, for the next couple of days, which meant that she’d headed straight for his arms. He didn’t say much. He didn’t express himself in the same ways, but what he did do, was write his name across every single inch of her body. He’d often state that he owned her body, some of her mind, and possibly a slice of her soul. She didn’t care, when the chemicals within started to mix. The spiral, the cascading need within simply asking for more. Much, much more.

She pushed aside the moments, the thoughts, moving them from her mind as her legs moved together. Her ankles, cuffed, connected, pointed straight up into the air. Bonded, roped to the ceiling. She knew that he enjoyed her legs. Strong, crafted from the many runs, the hours of exercise and, in all honesty, she’d prefer to show them in this setting instead of some fancy dress. This was raw, the realism being felt, instead of showed or wished for.

He could lie to her, he could say a million words, but instead he chose to use his touch as the method of communication. His fingers ran themselves slowly down the sides of her legs. Touching, feeling, expressing their need to be upon her, inside of her, doing what they were made for. She smiled, the blindfold still obscuring everything, as she felt the paddle gently slap the side of her exposed backside.

His hands found hers, as he slipped them into soft padded cuffs. He wanted her to feel and the more control he had over her body, resisting the glorious feeling, the more she would experience. Her world, the boring, the sedate, all factoring into the very reason that she needed to be here. She needed to feel, to be higher within her mind, which normal life would not allow. This wasn’t just sex, this wasn’t lust, as he vigorously needed to please her. She knew that he enjoyed every single inch of her body and, if she were honest, he probably knew those inches better than she herself did.

She groaned, head moving to the side, as he suddenly embraced her lips with his. Teasing, tasting her, his hands still gently moving along the sides of her legs. She imagined him, prone, his back arched, tasting her, experiencing everything she had upon the fancy display that he’d created from her body. He’d often say that she was a crafted work of precious art. Defined, styled, the curves and parts being exactly where they needed to be. Should be.

She loved this part. He knew, she knew, what came next. He told her how she should feel, finding exactly where, as well as what to do to her. He’d tease, he’d tease her until she wanted to damn well force him to obey her needs. She’d laugh, knowing exactly why he restrained her, but laughter was far from her mind as she felt the tip of his tongue slowly move up and down. He was cruel. He really, really was just so cruel to her. She wanted more, everything, right then, now, as soon as possible, while knowing that everything would come to those that waited.

She moaned ever so slightly, her head moving forward, as she felt his fingers find their given purpose within her. Her breathing started to escalate, with her bodily senses embracing every single rush. Each movement, each time he moved over and inside of her body, she allowed her mind to simply feel. He controlled every inch of her, as the rhythm increased its intensity. She knew that the teasing had ended, as his arm moved under her backside, moving her up and forward slightly. He searched with his lips, his tongue ensuring that the rhythm stayed exactly where it needed to be.

Each second, glorious. Each movement, edging her further and further towards her destination. Her hips started to move, no longer able to be contained and restrained by his bonds, as well as arm. Her mouth fell further open, the feelings reaching the very tip of her resistance as, slowly, she let all of her inhibitions free. Her legs tensed, her hands trying to find something to grasp, as she finally, thankfully, enjoyably, gave way to the moment.

The release. This release is what she needed and, frankly, would not have this any other way.

Click to Listen