I found God on 107,on the tight steep turns terrifyingand satisfying to complete.Towering trees, cloaked in sharp greens,supported with eternal brown.The wind and roarof driving too fastencouraged the danger,daring me to mess up,to go over, to end it all.Would it be an accidentor a dream come true?I found God in the silenceof my thoughts, everything emptyand begging to be filled,too afraid to ask.Desperation is a way of lifebut loneliness is the choice.I found God when I foundmyself. The wooded surroundingstook me in and spit me out.The heavens called outin a voice of a stormto guide me home.I am home.
About the Creator
Kristina Tingler
Kristina works, writes, and sleeps, but never in the same order.
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Please (Don't) Stop
I've learned to see beautyin the grander things,in nature, in people,leaving room for no emotion.I've found a way to turnoff my heart from things thatseem trivial, important, vital,harmful. I purged my minduntil only goals and plans remained,achieve alone,no one else allowed inbecause there is no one left to care.I've exhausted all possibilities.I am on my own. But you camealong and messed up my world.It wasn't sudden. I fought,I guess, or I was just ignorantto my heart still yearningto be touched, to be kissed, to bedesired in even the most sinful ways.It was gradual, fun and jokes,long talks and stories,until somehow you becamethe beauty in the grander things,in nature, in people,filling everything with emotion.
By Kristina Tingler6 years ago in Poets
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Oliver sat at a cold, grey steel-covered table. He knew he was next. The longer he sat here, the more confident he knew he wouldn’t make it. His hands were tied to the chair he was sitting on, pushed up against the steel table. A small camera in the corner of the ceiling with a tiny red flashing light was the only thing he was focused on. He felt sick to the stomach. He knew he didn’t have long.
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