A freelance writer of all sorts sharing it out with the world. Poetry, prose and advice. See what you like or don't but take a look all the same.
On sleepless nights I turn and toss All in reverse whilst laying damp with salty sweat and tears that dribble from my eyes
I don't understand how the strand of your hair keeps me captivated as it falls by your nose push it back past your ear,
The old woman was walking in front of me. Her step has not lost its determination, scarves gracefully wind round a neck shrouded in web-like grey. Life goes on, it begins and it ends. You can only hold on to what you gain while it's going. That determination, one foot in front of the other. It is learnt, it is conditioned and maintained. She marches gracefully on and I try to match her step as I follow behind. All too soon, I see I must be left behind. She walks on and I halt at my stop. At a door with a building sense of dread before I make that final step inside.
This is something I touched upon in an earlier article concerning weight loss, and is something I'm passionate about debunking when it comes to the pursuit of a healthy weight. BMI, or "Body Mass Index," is supposed to be a rough indicator of what your weight (or mass) should be in relation to your height. Categories include underweight, normal, overweight, obese, and extremely obese.
I saw the ring mark on the table, I raised a glass to you, and thought that toast eternally noted ingrained into that old wooden table,
To give you guys a little bit of perspective, the picture above was me, but about five or 6kg heavier than the final weight I would be. Now this story of weight loss occurred about two and a half years ago and is actually a fairly obscure one. Not because I was a weight-cutting female athlete, or even a combat athlete but because I was a female MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) cage-fighter in England, which is pretty rare. This rarity is actually what lead to the series of events that caused me to lose about 12kg in the space of 6 weeks. Why? Because unsurprisingly, not that many women have the dream of becoming a professional cage fighter. Shocker.
Seductive swirls of your tongue Speak to me Linguistically and physically You lick your lips As you do mine I embrace the tip
I gaze up at azure sky, Black branches trickle on to it like ink Like calligraphy on wedding invitations, As they always have