Emotional State

Mood

Home with my Husband

“Ghosts of the person you used to be are so proud of who you are, they live on inside you, applauding you for living on despite your scars.”― Nikita Gill, Wild Embers

I looked him in the eyes and wondered if there was ever a poem more beautiful than him.

Pleasant Dreams— Are such false comforts — Such monstrous hopes That rage in my soul. Oh! How frightful these horrors — These disgusting pleasures And abominable desires! Oh! How they crush my spirit, But, oh, how they delight my heart. These dreams — these Passions of a Midnight Summer — How luxurious it is to hold you — How repulsed I am when you’ve passed. Oh, Lord of Lies, Oh, Prince of Dreams, How merry I am when you pierce me, But how wasted I am when you’re through. Oh! Were it not a sin to be happy — Were it not a sin to be young — I’d indulge every desire —I’d do it all for you.

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