You tell me I am beautiful.
You tell me I am loved.
I am your favorite, your child, your queen.
Love, I agree.
You tell me I am powerful.
You tell me I am free.
I make the world what I want it to be.
Love, I agree.
You tell me I am perfect.
You tell me the world is at my feet.
Creation was made for me.
Love, I agree.
You tell me I am fearless.
You tell me I am big.
You have more for me than I believe.
Love, I agree.
You tell me I’m a creator.
You tell me I am clever, and witty, and fun.
I display the influence you have given me.
Love, I agree.
You tell me secrets about my future.
You tell me wait and see.
I sit in expectation and excitement ...
because Love, I agree.
About the Creator
Amy J Garner
I am on a journey of pursuing love fully and inviting others to join me.
I write to process what I've learned and share it in the hopes of inspiring others into this journey of experiencing real, true love for themselves.
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Chapter 32
I've got to get out of here. I felt the tears stinging the back of my eyes or maybe that was the smell of garbage. A house that looked like it hadn't been cleaned since he had moved in. That was three years ago, right? I did a quick calculation in my head, primarily as a distraction from the emotions coursing through my body.
By Amy J Garner8 months ago in Chapters
Quilting Mastery: Top-of-the-Line Sewing Machines
Title: Quilting Mastery: Top-of-the-Line Sewing Machines Subtitle: Precision Stitching and Control Filled with gratitude, today I delved into researching top-tier sewing machines for a grant proposal. This journey sparked a nostalgic moment as I recalled a poem I penned in 2009, featured in my book "Supreme Reign Love Redefined." Although the poem was excluded when the book was condensed, I retain the sole copy. Upon withdrawing my contract with Authorhouse, I opted to remove it. Yet, I'm delighted to share that the book has since been republished under the New York Times Bestseller, JL King. Little did I know then that I would venture into creating a lingerie line or navigating the world of grant writing. Time truly flies when you're immersed in passion.
By Denelsia Walkerabout 16 hours ago in Poets
Six Feet Under
Buried alive. What a horrible way to go. Yazz lay there, in her own thoughts. What else could she do? She was hungry, thirsty, tired, mentally, and physically exhausted, and more than anything, she was bored. She hoped she would die of boredom before anything else, anything else would've been more painful. Like many people had, she and her friends had talked about what they reckon the worst ways to die were, it was a morbid subject, but it came up every now and again. Yazz had always been one to argue her point on drowning, others had mentioned burning alive, slowly and painfully bleeding to death, hung drawn and quartered, and being starved to death. It was strange that none of them had considered being buried alive, it had never come up. But now, she was thinking back to those conversations her and her friends had had, how could they have not thought about it? It took a lot longer than the others, you were completely confined, you couldn't move or do anything, you just had to wait, until your body was physically unable to support a life system anymore, which could take up to four days. Four! By far the longest out of all of them. She recounted some of these conversations just to try and pass the time, anything to pass the time. It was difficult to know how much time had passed since she had been underground, it was difficult to know anything. There were many things that Yazz didn't know, she didn't know where she was, she didn't know how she'd got into the coffin, she'd just woken up there. Yazz also didn't know what time it was, or even what day it was, she guessed at Tuesday, it was Sunday evening when she'd been buried alive, intentionally, and although it had felt like weeks had passed, she was still alive, which means she hadn't died from dehydration, and therefore it couldn't have been more than four days.
By Liam Storm3 days ago in Fiction
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