My chest can't hold it any longer
The heart of brilliant white
Made of stone, and of steel
But also the thinnest glass.
A sheild of protection and strength
But also like a fragile flower.
Let's go somewhere quiet
Only where we know
Where the world turns without us
And calm keeps us warm
You can put your arms around me
And cover me with kisses.
I'll put my hands to my chest
Draw the warmth towards them
Here is my offering to you
The heart of brillant light
You are the keeper now, after all
The heart was always yours.
Thursday, 28 October 2010
Friday, 8 October 2010
Letter to myself...
Dear Rach,
I've been wanting to write to you for a long time, but i guess I've been struggling to build up the courage to do so.
I want to apologise. I want to say sorry for neglecting you and forgetting just how much you are worth. I'm sorry for letting you get walked over and shouted at and treated badly, and I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me.
Things haven't been easy for me. I've felt so weak and worthless and not good enough. But enough is enough and I'm finally awake again. I kicked away my demons and have found something that makes me happy beyond belief. So its time i made amends.
There are a few things i need to say, and in my typical style I'm going to bullet point them for you... maybe it might do you some good to read this once in a while...
1. Believe. Good things will happen, and please stop thinking that it's all too good to be true. You are a lovely person and deserve it. Things do go wrong, but just learn from it and move on.
2. Please don't dwell on the past. Yes, things haven't been great. But things happen for a reason and you're learnt from it. Be positive and smile that lovely smile.
3. Don't change. Your selflessness and kindness are attributes, not flaws. You're an fun, funny girl... a talented dancer and bartender and are a cute games geek. Sure, you can't cook for shit, but you have more than enough great things about you to make up for it. And there's always Nigella for a bit of cheating ;)
4. Go easy on yourself. So you do something wrong, but is there any need to beat yourself up for days? No. Take a breath, smile and laugh and move on. Everybody makes mistakes.
5. Say what you think. You've already proved that saying what's in your heart can open up a door to something incredible. Keep doing it Rach.
Remember, I'm always here for you and things will be a lot different from now on. And please know that i'm so so sorry.
A new chapter.
Love always,
Rach xxx
I've been wanting to write to you for a long time, but i guess I've been struggling to build up the courage to do so.
I want to apologise. I want to say sorry for neglecting you and forgetting just how much you are worth. I'm sorry for letting you get walked over and shouted at and treated badly, and I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me.
Things haven't been easy for me. I've felt so weak and worthless and not good enough. But enough is enough and I'm finally awake again. I kicked away my demons and have found something that makes me happy beyond belief. So its time i made amends.
There are a few things i need to say, and in my typical style I'm going to bullet point them for you... maybe it might do you some good to read this once in a while...
1. Believe. Good things will happen, and please stop thinking that it's all too good to be true. You are a lovely person and deserve it. Things do go wrong, but just learn from it and move on.
2. Please don't dwell on the past. Yes, things haven't been great. But things happen for a reason and you're learnt from it. Be positive and smile that lovely smile.
3. Don't change. Your selflessness and kindness are attributes, not flaws. You're an fun, funny girl... a talented dancer and bartender and are a cute games geek. Sure, you can't cook for shit, but you have more than enough great things about you to make up for it. And there's always Nigella for a bit of cheating ;)
4. Go easy on yourself. So you do something wrong, but is there any need to beat yourself up for days? No. Take a breath, smile and laugh and move on. Everybody makes mistakes.
5. Say what you think. You've already proved that saying what's in your heart can open up a door to something incredible. Keep doing it Rach.
Remember, I'm always here for you and things will be a lot different from now on. And please know that i'm so so sorry.
A new chapter.
Love always,
Rach xxx
Addiction
The cold December air whips my face as i stride out of work and down the street towards the bright lights of the shopping district. A few precious hours, then back to work. Another day, another dollar as they say. I try not to think about the long night ahead.
I push my hands further into my pockets and tense my arm muscles to protect myself from the cold, silently cursing myself for buying the black mac I’m wearing. True, it looks good, but does fuck all against the winter weather. As i move into the throngs to shoppers, it seems I’m not the only one who made the wrong clothing decision today; blue faces, red noses, deflated expressions.
Just one place i need to go and then i can go snuggle up in my mate’s bar and catch up with my friends. Nice warm hot chocolate and a squishy sofa to sink into. I think of getting off my feet as my eyes take in the bright lights of clothes shops, banks and cafe’s.
‘Hey baby...’, a velvet voice purrs softly into my ear.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as i look around. One set of heels clicking against the floor. One shadow. But he’s right next to me.
“You’ve got four hours off. You know you’ve got time to have some fun with me. Doesn’t that sound just delicious?”
I shake my head quickly and try to concentrate on something else. A busker playing a harmonica and waving a neon yellow flag. A mother telling her child off for refusing to put her coat. A group of students chatting excitedly about what happened the night before.
Something. Anything.
His hand gently touches mine and caresses my fingers. “Come on gorgeous. Let’s go find something to make you feel better. You’ve had such a hard time lately. You deserve a little treat. A little pick me up.”
“No. I need to go to one place and then i’m going to see my friends. No detours. I don’t need anything.” I whisper to myself under my breath.
His arm slips around my waist and he pulls me closer. I can feel his warmth and it makes my heart burn and my skin crawl at the same time. He leans in and whispers again, his face so close to mine his breath makes my ear tingle. “Come with me baby. I want to go get you something to make you feel really sexy. You know you want to feel sexy. You know you want him to look at you and want you...” His hands run up my back slowly and gently “ You know you want him to touch you, and make you feel good. Don’t you baby?”
I look round in desperation at the shoppers passing by me. I look normal to them, a redheaded twentysomething on my way to meet someone or do something. A woman in control.
I plead with myself not to give in, to think of things that make me feel strong. I don’t need anything. I’m fine as i am, i think to myself.
He answers in a heartbeat. “No you’re not. There are a hundred things i can think of that you could buy right now. Things that will make you feel and look good.”
I focus on where i’m supposed to be going, but i can feel my direction veering. And then suddenly i’m turning direction, towards one of my favourite haunts. I beg my feet to turn around.They aren't listening.
“I said one place. Don’t change my mind.” I whisper again.
The arm around my waist begins to tighten, and i lose all control of direction. I couldn’t break free if i tried. Picking up pace, i stride towards the neon lights of the store. My plans fall away and i can’t seem to remember what i came into town for.
“Come on baby,”, the voice whispers into my ear. “Let me look after you. Don’t you want to feel good about yourself?”
“Yeah, i do” I silently answer, “but i can’t afford it.”
“What’s thirty quid here and there?”
“I need that money.”
“No you don’t baby.”
As i’m dragged into the store the bright lights on the ceiling hit me hard and i hold my hand up to shield my eyes. I’m too weak to turn back, too polite to ask for help. I’ve lost control of my body and my conscience stands inside myself screaming silently. I am powerless as i watch my arms begin to pick up dresses, and sweaters, fancy underwear and shoes. One side of my body begins to strain under the weight of the large basket i have found and have filled with worrying ease.
I can hear him controlling me with that velvet voice. “Oooh, you’ll look gorgeous in that.” “That’ll look great on your body”
My conscience deep inside is crying, caged by my body’s increasing desire for more things. I feel warm, and happy and alive, as i get my fix- totally unaware of the effects of what i'm doing. We’re laughing together, and flirting and truly connecting silently as other shoppers weave around us. I’ve turned into a different person; a robot, a puppet. He’s winning, and part of me is consumed with a new need for the new things in my overfilling basket.
And then i’m there. The cashier smiles and takes my card. The money burning a hole in my pocket grows cold and still. I’m in a daze as he silently carries me to the exit and i gasp as the cold air whips my face once more.
I feel so alone. A couple walks past hand in hand, chatting about their anniversary.
The velvet voice sounds calmer now. “See? Don’t you feel better?”
That warm feeling of desire has melted now, and a nauseating feeling of dread replaces it. What have i done? He brushes his hand against my face and without another word, disappears into the wind.
I stand, unable to move for what seems like an eternity. I’ve let everyone down again. Staring down at my feet i catch a glimpse of something shiny in my crisp new carrier bag. Something i don’t remember buying, don’t need and will probably wear once.
I think of that presence; that person; that voice, and at the same time loathe and miss him. I miss that crazy warmth that had so easily seeped into me minutes earlier.
My love. My hate. My addiction.
I push my hands further into my pockets and tense my arm muscles to protect myself from the cold, silently cursing myself for buying the black mac I’m wearing. True, it looks good, but does fuck all against the winter weather. As i move into the throngs to shoppers, it seems I’m not the only one who made the wrong clothing decision today; blue faces, red noses, deflated expressions.
Just one place i need to go and then i can go snuggle up in my mate’s bar and catch up with my friends. Nice warm hot chocolate and a squishy sofa to sink into. I think of getting off my feet as my eyes take in the bright lights of clothes shops, banks and cafe’s.
‘Hey baby...’, a velvet voice purrs softly into my ear.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as i look around. One set of heels clicking against the floor. One shadow. But he’s right next to me.
“You’ve got four hours off. You know you’ve got time to have some fun with me. Doesn’t that sound just delicious?”
I shake my head quickly and try to concentrate on something else. A busker playing a harmonica and waving a neon yellow flag. A mother telling her child off for refusing to put her coat. A group of students chatting excitedly about what happened the night before.
Something. Anything.
His hand gently touches mine and caresses my fingers. “Come on gorgeous. Let’s go find something to make you feel better. You’ve had such a hard time lately. You deserve a little treat. A little pick me up.”
“No. I need to go to one place and then i’m going to see my friends. No detours. I don’t need anything.” I whisper to myself under my breath.
His arm slips around my waist and he pulls me closer. I can feel his warmth and it makes my heart burn and my skin crawl at the same time. He leans in and whispers again, his face so close to mine his breath makes my ear tingle. “Come with me baby. I want to go get you something to make you feel really sexy. You know you want to feel sexy. You know you want him to look at you and want you...” His hands run up my back slowly and gently “ You know you want him to touch you, and make you feel good. Don’t you baby?”
I look round in desperation at the shoppers passing by me. I look normal to them, a redheaded twentysomething on my way to meet someone or do something. A woman in control.
I plead with myself not to give in, to think of things that make me feel strong. I don’t need anything. I’m fine as i am, i think to myself.
He answers in a heartbeat. “No you’re not. There are a hundred things i can think of that you could buy right now. Things that will make you feel and look good.”
I focus on where i’m supposed to be going, but i can feel my direction veering. And then suddenly i’m turning direction, towards one of my favourite haunts. I beg my feet to turn around.They aren't listening.
“I said one place. Don’t change my mind.” I whisper again.
The arm around my waist begins to tighten, and i lose all control of direction. I couldn’t break free if i tried. Picking up pace, i stride towards the neon lights of the store. My plans fall away and i can’t seem to remember what i came into town for.
“Come on baby,”, the voice whispers into my ear. “Let me look after you. Don’t you want to feel good about yourself?”
“Yeah, i do” I silently answer, “but i can’t afford it.”
“What’s thirty quid here and there?”
“I need that money.”
“No you don’t baby.”
As i’m dragged into the store the bright lights on the ceiling hit me hard and i hold my hand up to shield my eyes. I’m too weak to turn back, too polite to ask for help. I’ve lost control of my body and my conscience stands inside myself screaming silently. I am powerless as i watch my arms begin to pick up dresses, and sweaters, fancy underwear and shoes. One side of my body begins to strain under the weight of the large basket i have found and have filled with worrying ease.
I can hear him controlling me with that velvet voice. “Oooh, you’ll look gorgeous in that.” “That’ll look great on your body”
My conscience deep inside is crying, caged by my body’s increasing desire for more things. I feel warm, and happy and alive, as i get my fix- totally unaware of the effects of what i'm doing. We’re laughing together, and flirting and truly connecting silently as other shoppers weave around us. I’ve turned into a different person; a robot, a puppet. He’s winning, and part of me is consumed with a new need for the new things in my overfilling basket.
And then i’m there. The cashier smiles and takes my card. The money burning a hole in my pocket grows cold and still. I’m in a daze as he silently carries me to the exit and i gasp as the cold air whips my face once more.
I feel so alone. A couple walks past hand in hand, chatting about their anniversary.
The velvet voice sounds calmer now. “See? Don’t you feel better?”
That warm feeling of desire has melted now, and a nauseating feeling of dread replaces it. What have i done? He brushes his hand against my face and without another word, disappears into the wind.
I stand, unable to move for what seems like an eternity. I’ve let everyone down again. Staring down at my feet i catch a glimpse of something shiny in my crisp new carrier bag. Something i don’t remember buying, don’t need and will probably wear once.
I think of that presence; that person; that voice, and at the same time loathe and miss him. I miss that crazy warmth that had so easily seeped into me minutes earlier.
My love. My hate. My addiction.
Tuesday, 21 September 2010
One key in front of the other....
I still quite can't believe this is the first post i've written this year. I thought maybe that Blogger was decieving me, but no... not one post all year. VERY naughty.
But then again, i'm illustrating the very reason why i was never cut out to work as a writer. I love the idea of the spontaneous compulsion to write, fueling me from somewhere deep inside me. Yes, i know some of the post here can make me sound superficial- but i'm not all like that. There are times when i've wanted to keep my thoughts and feelings locked away and i guess its safe to say the first two thirds of the year up to now have been very like that. It's definately been a year of change; change back to something i know all to well in getting back together with my boyfriend after a nine month split, changing work twice and finally settling somehwere that i truly love to work. There has been stress and tears, frustration and anger... but there has also been laughing and love, and a fair amount of dancing!
I guess time will tell if i'm back into the zone of writing... god knows i've got a mountain of dilemmas to catch up on!
xxx
But then again, i'm illustrating the very reason why i was never cut out to work as a writer. I love the idea of the spontaneous compulsion to write, fueling me from somewhere deep inside me. Yes, i know some of the post here can make me sound superficial- but i'm not all like that. There are times when i've wanted to keep my thoughts and feelings locked away and i guess its safe to say the first two thirds of the year up to now have been very like that. It's definately been a year of change; change back to something i know all to well in getting back together with my boyfriend after a nine month split, changing work twice and finally settling somehwere that i truly love to work. There has been stress and tears, frustration and anger... but there has also been laughing and love, and a fair amount of dancing!
I guess time will tell if i'm back into the zone of writing... god knows i've got a mountain of dilemmas to catch up on!
xxx
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
Dilemma Number Twenty-Two: Plastic Fantastic?
Ever read any Adorno and Horkheimer?
When i was at uni, i was obsessed with a text called 'The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception' from their book 'Dialectic of enlightenment'(And there's you thinking i was an airhead... i am actually very well-read thankyouverymuch). It still remains to be the only peice of writing i have read that's had a profound effect on me....to the point where i used to lie awake at night thinking about society and the terrible unconscious state we were in.
In a nutshell, Adorno and Horkheimer argued that the media and popular culture was like a factory, churning out standardised goods and products, through mediums like film, tv, radio, material-based goods like technology and fashion etc. These products were meant to unconsciously 'push' masses into a hypnotic state of capitivity and passivity... products produced by the media has the power of being able to pigeon-hole people into a range of character categories... the worker, the professional, the fashionista- you get the point.
By keeping masses in a state of passivity, the media is able to keep people quiet, gntly satisfying them with material gratification and stopping them from causing a fuss. Genuine needs, like love and happiness, and justice, are swapped for easy-to-handle needs created by the media. You 'need' an Iphone. You 'need' to go see Twilight. You 'need' to buy something/everything/anything from the Manolo Blanik collection at H&M. That feeling of inadequacy if you don't have the 'right' trainers, 'right' mobile or 'right' knowledge of music... you didn't create that...the media did- so you would comply and buy buy buy. Capitalism- don't you love it?
Think of The Culture Industry like 'The Matrix'... millions are kept unconscious, caged within an invisible prison and used for their buying power and ability to work... thus fueling the capitalist machine. We're too busy worrying about clothes and why we're single and the lastest action movie to see whats going on.
What makes me angry about myself is that i still fall for the same tricks, with full knowledge of what is going on. And boy, The Culture Industry feeds me my vice like a personal brand of heroin...
I had a day off today... and met with a friend for lunch and costume shopping (we're going out on friday) and somehow managed to spend £75 in TWO HOURS with my debit card (thank GOD this dilemma doesn't involve a credit card)... on crap. I'm not talking about currently looking at a £75 pair of pretty shoes.. i mean i spent it on a dress.. a bit of make-up, a meal with my mate, nibbles for work, a cocktail or two, a new purse, a diary for next year... CRAP. Mindless gratifying crap. And the Culture Industry won... i skipped around town with my shopping bags feeling happy and full of life.
And i got home. And worked out how much i spent. And on what? Crap. Crap that i thought i needed.. crap that i thought might look good...
And i felt ashamed. Knowing that i'd been taken for a fool AGAIN. And the sad thing, i'll never learn. None of us will.
When i was at uni, i was obsessed with a text called 'The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception' from their book 'Dialectic of enlightenment'(And there's you thinking i was an airhead... i am actually very well-read thankyouverymuch). It still remains to be the only peice of writing i have read that's had a profound effect on me....to the point where i used to lie awake at night thinking about society and the terrible unconscious state we were in.
In a nutshell, Adorno and Horkheimer argued that the media and popular culture was like a factory, churning out standardised goods and products, through mediums like film, tv, radio, material-based goods like technology and fashion etc. These products were meant to unconsciously 'push' masses into a hypnotic state of capitivity and passivity... products produced by the media has the power of being able to pigeon-hole people into a range of character categories... the worker, the professional, the fashionista- you get the point.
By keeping masses in a state of passivity, the media is able to keep people quiet, gntly satisfying them with material gratification and stopping them from causing a fuss. Genuine needs, like love and happiness, and justice, are swapped for easy-to-handle needs created by the media. You 'need' an Iphone. You 'need' to go see Twilight. You 'need' to buy something/everything/anything from the Manolo Blanik collection at H&M. That feeling of inadequacy if you don't have the 'right' trainers, 'right' mobile or 'right' knowledge of music... you didn't create that...the media did- so you would comply and buy buy buy. Capitalism- don't you love it?
Think of The Culture Industry like 'The Matrix'... millions are kept unconscious, caged within an invisible prison and used for their buying power and ability to work... thus fueling the capitalist machine. We're too busy worrying about clothes and why we're single and the lastest action movie to see whats going on.
What makes me angry about myself is that i still fall for the same tricks, with full knowledge of what is going on. And boy, The Culture Industry feeds me my vice like a personal brand of heroin...
I had a day off today... and met with a friend for lunch and costume shopping (we're going out on friday) and somehow managed to spend £75 in TWO HOURS with my debit card (thank GOD this dilemma doesn't involve a credit card)... on crap. I'm not talking about currently looking at a £75 pair of pretty shoes.. i mean i spent it on a dress.. a bit of make-up, a meal with my mate, nibbles for work, a cocktail or two, a new purse, a diary for next year... CRAP. Mindless gratifying crap. And the Culture Industry won... i skipped around town with my shopping bags feeling happy and full of life.
And i got home. And worked out how much i spent. And on what? Crap. Crap that i thought i needed.. crap that i thought might look good...
And i felt ashamed. Knowing that i'd been taken for a fool AGAIN. And the sad thing, i'll never learn. None of us will.
Friday, 27 November 2009
Whats so wrong with romance?
Conversation last night at work with my gorgeous mate Sarah...
Me: "I think he's just dashing. I mean, can you imagine it? I'd love for him to just sit and play me songs and sing TO me you know?"
Sarah: "I can't think of anything worse. I think i'd rather eat my own face."
Me: "Why??? I love all that romantic mushy stuff."
Sarah: "You're on your own there babe!"
Sarah has a point... where has all the romance gone?
There are times when i genuinely think i was born at the wrong time. When it comes to matters of the heart and relationships... i feel like i should have been born within the walls of Verona, in New York with Benando and the Sharks, on in the Yorkshire moors near Wuthering Heights. I love love. I love being in love, and loving someone and being loved back. I love caring for someone, making them laugh and sharing memorable experiences. When i look back at all the romantic things i've done for any of my exes, i think of loads of things. Turning up at Tom's house wearing nothing but a coat and heels when he was feeling down one morning before college. Romantic weekends in Stratford with Dan; little b&b, some Shakespeare and a nice meal. Cards and little gifts on Steve's pillow so he would smile when he got home from work. It's just who i am and who i've always been. Making funny faces in a photo booth and sending the pictures to an ex i hadn't seen for weeks. Funny poems and notes, little naughty messages, roses, suprise meals at home and out.... i like doing those sorts of things.
Every weekend, my and my mates will go out after work for a drink or three. I look around and feel like i don't fit in. Every club is like a cattle market, packs of girls and guys furiously trying to secure a mate for the night. Taking them home and having drunken sex, only to wake up in the morning with the realisation that it was only lust. It meant nothing and one or the other has to crawl out of bed and make the long lonely journey home.
Being single for the first time in a long time, i feel so sad and disheartened at this concept. I dont want to be a conquest for someone, and likewise, i dont want to be the kind of girl that wakes up with someone she regrets sleeping with. I want more. I want chemistry and magic... if it still exists.
It's a minefield. Noone dates any more, noone waits to sleep with that special someone. Where's the wooing? Where are the sweet nothings and suprises? In a world where everyone lives at a hundred miles an hour is there something other than 'fast love'? Why does noone play the long game anymore? Surely everything is better (and yes, i'm mainly talking about the physical side here) when there is magic and feeling? I can hardly imagine you are going to feel your heart flip when you and the guy who's name you cant remember drag yourselves back to his flat for a quickie.
Pulling, one night stands, drunken snogs... is that all there is now? What's wrong with romance? Is it not cool anymore? Do people avoid it because it takes too long, or looks sad, or maybe too clingy? Does anyone think about weekends in Paris, and roses and suprises anymore?
Is it wrong to want more? Am i really alone here?
Me: "I think he's just dashing. I mean, can you imagine it? I'd love for him to just sit and play me songs and sing TO me you know?"
Sarah: "I can't think of anything worse. I think i'd rather eat my own face."
Me: "Why??? I love all that romantic mushy stuff."
Sarah: "You're on your own there babe!"
Sarah has a point... where has all the romance gone?
There are times when i genuinely think i was born at the wrong time. When it comes to matters of the heart and relationships... i feel like i should have been born within the walls of Verona, in New York with Benando and the Sharks, on in the Yorkshire moors near Wuthering Heights. I love love. I love being in love, and loving someone and being loved back. I love caring for someone, making them laugh and sharing memorable experiences. When i look back at all the romantic things i've done for any of my exes, i think of loads of things. Turning up at Tom's house wearing nothing but a coat and heels when he was feeling down one morning before college. Romantic weekends in Stratford with Dan; little b&b, some Shakespeare and a nice meal. Cards and little gifts on Steve's pillow so he would smile when he got home from work. It's just who i am and who i've always been. Making funny faces in a photo booth and sending the pictures to an ex i hadn't seen for weeks. Funny poems and notes, little naughty messages, roses, suprise meals at home and out.... i like doing those sorts of things.
Every weekend, my and my mates will go out after work for a drink or three. I look around and feel like i don't fit in. Every club is like a cattle market, packs of girls and guys furiously trying to secure a mate for the night. Taking them home and having drunken sex, only to wake up in the morning with the realisation that it was only lust. It meant nothing and one or the other has to crawl out of bed and make the long lonely journey home.
Being single for the first time in a long time, i feel so sad and disheartened at this concept. I dont want to be a conquest for someone, and likewise, i dont want to be the kind of girl that wakes up with someone she regrets sleeping with. I want more. I want chemistry and magic... if it still exists.
It's a minefield. Noone dates any more, noone waits to sleep with that special someone. Where's the wooing? Where are the sweet nothings and suprises? In a world where everyone lives at a hundred miles an hour is there something other than 'fast love'? Why does noone play the long game anymore? Surely everything is better (and yes, i'm mainly talking about the physical side here) when there is magic and feeling? I can hardly imagine you are going to feel your heart flip when you and the guy who's name you cant remember drag yourselves back to his flat for a quickie.
Pulling, one night stands, drunken snogs... is that all there is now? What's wrong with romance? Is it not cool anymore? Do people avoid it because it takes too long, or looks sad, or maybe too clingy? Does anyone think about weekends in Paris, and roses and suprises anymore?
Is it wrong to want more? Am i really alone here?
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Electricity/ Je peux sentir les papillons.
Your touch is like electricity,
Pulsing through my body in strawberry waves,
Lighting my world and slowing time,
I can only close my eyes and surrender.
Your voice is like electricity,
Waking me up from the endless dark,
And powering my heart and mind,
I stand taller, head held high.
Your words are like electricity,
Sparkling before my eyes like glitter and pearls,
Wrapping me up in a strong embrace,
I can feel the butterflies.
xxx
Je peux sentir les papillons.
Pulsing through my body in strawberry waves,
Lighting my world and slowing time,
I can only close my eyes and surrender.
Your voice is like electricity,
Waking me up from the endless dark,
And powering my heart and mind,
I stand taller, head held high.
Your words are like electricity,
Sparkling before my eyes like glitter and pearls,
Wrapping me up in a strong embrace,
I can feel the butterflies.
xxx
Je peux sentir les papillons.
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