Skin.I love the way life leaves its mark on our bodies.Skin. by Kezzi-Rose
Every laugh and smile etched in the crinkles around your eyes and mouth;
Those tan-lines the time you forgot about sunscreen
Because you were so hell-bent on reaching that mountain peak
Or when you just became lost in the gentle lap of waves at the shore;
The scars you got skateboarding in the park at summer dusk
Or when life became pain and it was your only release.
Our bodies are a record of our memories and experiences
They are our travel journals and emotional diaries
Our delicate armour to the elements.
And no matter its colour, its stature, if it's not quite intact
If you sometimes think it takes up too much space, or if it has pointy corners
Your body is the vessel for your soul, and every wonderful facet of who you are
Sparkles from the surface of your skin.
Skin that may grow to be wrinkled, tanned, scarred, well lived-in
Although not always embraced by you the way that others embrace it.
Take the time to explore the s
This Is Not A PrayerGodThis Is Not A Prayer by CrumbledWings
I write this to you,
This is not a prayer
Not such an inconsequential waste of air,
I can hardly breathe
From on all the prayers
Wasted on your ears,
From how long I've knelt at your feet.
This is a letter
Sent from a grieving sinner
Whilst still clutching the hand
You stole from him
Two hands ,in fact,
One so small
I hardly noticed
When it ceased clutching me.
I write this to ask
Not to pray
As prayers seem to have no worth to you
Surely not mine at least.
I ask only
That you return them to me.
Let me clutch these hands
Till they might return my grasp.
Because as I am right now
I doubt, I could ever let them go.
I write this
Not to pray but to beg
Give them back to me.
Give them back.
I can't let them go.