Author: Megan James

My Alarm Clock Olive

OliveThis is my very obstinate cat Olive who wakes me every morning in some of the most unpleasant ways! But I still love her to death! Meow.

Star Wars Snowflakes


Learn how to make these here.


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The feeling of happiness can blissfully
intoxicate, but certain resolve sometimes
allows for none.

Fear to anxiety
Anxiety to hiding
Hiding to depression
Depression to despair
Despair to retrieve …

Consoled by red wine, pardoned with vomit; fairy dust awakens and cutting is arresting.
All accepted as a social conundrum.

Judgment to responsibility
Responsibility to anxiety
Anxiety to faith
Faith to action
Action to performance …

Beliefs about fate and gratitude swirl around.
There are moments of prickling ups without the use of harmful aids.
I’m integrated with the social norm.

Pressure to keep it going, angered by dull overseers and imprisoned by a repetitive ballad restarts the rhythm.

Searching for something means that there is something worth finding. And no matter how small or big that something is, and regardless of being able to clearly articulate it, “it” does exist. Close your eyes, lay still and see it now. Cycles will come and go, thoughts and feelings will alter, and time ensures that no one is exempt from finding their glory.

Your song will change.

image: morgueFile

Little Girls

Exploring wooded areas, summer berries and making jam, storytelling on Christmas eves, braids at Easter, Sunday morning scribes, dollhouses and blue birds.
Carefree, inquisitive and evolving, we shared secrets.

When we got older, we were bound to be happy again, meeting at each other’s sun-filled homes for coffee, gossip, laughter and succor.

Tucking feelings away, frigid chills and learning inhibitions, lying about our truths, screaming vanities, hidden talents, substances and hounds.
Scared, dispassionate and dying, we buried family secrets.

I prayed every night that things would change; you would discover something that gave you peace, courage and restored health. Certain memories erased.

Paralyzed sensibilities and a cancerous grief cultivated a very disillusioned sense of obligation. But there has to be a point where grief unfolds wings of flight above oceans delight.

Following suit and becoming an intrepid explorer again, I will be okay with blackberry stains and will wait a little longer before straining. Pretty pinions, perfumed memories and heavenly song will give me that strength.

I have faith that one day I’ll come across them again.