Good Old Osama Bin Laden

Rejoice in the death of a crupt man?

Is this acceptable?

what about his soul?

Aren't we called to be a great and merciful people?

Why would we further humiliate some names scarred soul.

What good would it do to tear this mans soul apart?

what does it do to our souls? 

The Great Unknown

You said you feared God,

But in your heart you fear, fear. 

Maybe I should just pray to what I believe, or feel. 

I feel the Holy Spirit on my soul. 

I know its there i just have to let mind

free to your love. 

Ticking Time Bomb

As much as i would love to leave you, abandon every touch, burn every photograph in my mind, 

I cant. 

I'm always going to be here for you I'm always going to let you use my heart. 

You've just made me that way. 

So eat, drink, and soak up my soul.

Go ahead, your allowed. 

It's my fault I didn't know any better.

I long for the day you start to decay.

You wouldn't be able to touch me anymore, follow me around town, tell other people that I am your daughter.

Oh how i long for that day. 

But even when your gone, my dreams will still be vivid.

Forever. 

Inches

Every inch i get closer to you there is a foot of imperfections listing in my head and blocking my heart from what is really there.

 You touch me and my face turns red, not from being embarrassed  but from that list rushing around in my head, and the make-believe reasons why this is so wrong attack my soul. 

 You know that saying its me not you?

 Well its not me

 its my mind.

 There's an automatic switch that goes off and tells me to run.

 Maybe deep down i think of Ted and getting hurt again.

The inches grow and my heart grows cold.

Hands

My Fathers hands had a large grip, strong fingers and sickly nail beds. 

His hands were covered in black wirey hair there was a yellow grey tint to his hands and veins that stuck out like speed bumps. 

When you open his hand a map of creases show a life line.

His skin rough and tempature cold and kinda clammy. 

Most importantly my fathers solid gold wedding ring, 

It was terribly scratched and had been on his finger for 11 years,

most of the time he wore the ring with pride.

It always made me shiver when his wide hand would touch my bare back,

the wedding ring was always more cold than his hands. 

I could feel their marriage on my skin.

I can still feel his hands on me, my back, legs, breasts, and face all feels explored. 

But the funny thing is that my father never completely explored my body. 

I wonder what stopped him?  

Maybe the weight of the wedding ring snapped him out of the trance.

But then again the ring didn't even weigh that much. 

The Beginning

Well hey there,
        Today I got inspired. I thought that today is the time to start my life. I want to able to live freely, love myself, and share. Its a new day and I plan to share my life on this page. My blog is going to be about daily experiences, abuse, weight gain (and hopefully weight loss) boys, love, family, and my heart.
                                     Well here goes nothing.....................
                                                            xoxo,
                                                            Sarah