We're always compartmentalizing our lives --wanting everything so neat and organized it never just is. Everything is labeled and diagnosed, defined, and described, that I think we've lost the ability to see the beauty in the simplicity of existence.

"I do not understand, " cried she, "Where do my loves go? Where do I go? Where is my mind, my life, my cares? Does it not matter anymore? Why should I not matter? I have eyes to see and ears to hear, a mouth to speak, and a mind to think, and still it is not enough for you! For you or anyone else to let me love and be as God has always intended I be. For He made me. Not you. He and only He."

he had never dreamed in

color.

it was a lack that made

him feel awkward about

the vibrancy of

consciousness.

he had never dreamed in

color and he had

psychoanalyzed himself

enough to know

color made him

feel more restricted

than a world of

black and white.

Don't watch me

I

don't need eyes all over

my body.

Trusting you to save me

when all you do is see

only the things I never

want to

show.

found

Something tells me I'm going

to see a world of flames

burst at seams to allow a

million fireflies to light us

all up and again.

They are buzzing in my ears

telling me of all the secrets

of the universe.

We feel so lonely, but it's all

just aflame. He's watching us,

trying to make us believe.