Human nature, if healthy, demands excitement; and if it does not obtain its thrilling excitement in the right way, it will seek it in the wrong. God never makes bloodless stoics; He makes no passionless saints.
Hello stranger, the names Lilith. But you can call me Lili for short. I'm not good with this whole " So tell me about yourself in an about me box" thing... it's a tad, human.
I am an artist, a poet, a writer, song bird, dancer of the dance, wielder of questions, wielder of answers, lover, friend, child, sister, brother, confidante, optimist, pessimist, open book, mystic, philosopher, metaphysical wanderer, hopeless romantic, dreamer, and charmer.
My age, I think, is irrelevant. I am mature, I am an old soul. Isn't that enough for you?
Some of my work:
I bet it’s very lonely being a werewolf-
Being a man with the
jaws of a beast.
Keeping claws
inside your sleeves
No smiles for the fear of showing teeth
while leaf litter sticks to
your skin
in autumnal morning decay-
The moon tucked behind
the sun.
The growl of a heart locked in
Solar bone scrape
The cold of a winter kicked shin
and in those lonely beggars eyes
betray
a man without a howl to spare,
empty and echoing
in solitude.
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I had a dream about your
Grin-
Sly crooked white’s
That’d glint like your eyes
Against the rust leaves of
Autumn trees.
Your finger stretched in secret
Beckoning-
My feet dragged across the ground,
limbs heavy branched and
Bruised;
metacarpals lacing around your
Head
A crown.
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Your skin was thick
and it wrapped around me
like
a coat.
Touched shy of my ears and
sent the blood to my cheeks—
My ankles would shake
down the pads of my feet
and I’d walk them
raw on the concrete.
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My new Look as of late:
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