Random Photos From A Life

Mac Tabby Cat Cafe
Ol Blue Eyes
Urban
Tree scape
Baby Yoda
The Greatest Cat in The World
Charleston

Green
The best
Wilmington
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Love Me

Love me, not just my body,
but the curvature of my being.
Take me as I am, as I’ll be.
Give me the quiet music
of your heart. Teach me
the lyrics and tune.

Love me for infinity, and not
just indefinitely. Tell me
we can work, if we work
for it as if it were our livelihood.
As if it were our art.

Love me enough to make
revisions to replenish.
Let me be the black and
blue uprooting your veins.

Love me from the inside out,
where the echos are heard everywhere.
Let me be your irreplaceable.
This body, this spirit, this future corpse.
Let me translate and soothe in a language
that’s never been anywhere but us.

Love me with substance and let our love
be a love of existence. Knowing I’m flawed,
that I’m nothing special but knowing
I’m enough for you.

Love me, like an
idea fully formed, like a love poem
filling the paper to capacity, full of hope,
written at the desk by heart light.

Love me, like yours is the hand
holding the pen.
Let the rhythm belong to you.
Love me, like I’m the
syntax of your verse,
the reason behind your rhyme.

Love me,

Tosha Michelle

The Middle

The middle years brings first a relentless restlessness, that eventually blossoms into a melancholy sweetness, a mindfulness of the passing of years. No bitterness allowed here, only a tender tendency to remind ourselves that the world brightens with grace and gratitude.


We see summer now for what it is fleeting with it’s sun soaked glory days and hazy afterglow appeal. Now we linger in autumn’s red leaves and take time to appreciate the moss under our feet, the hand holding ours, ready to go anywhere, to adventure and explore.


We know winter will come soon enough, moving like liquid lead over our lungs. For now we breathe, Now still, in this moment that is ours. For today let’s create some
unforgettable music. Music that will sustain us on future days when the world seems less possible. I’ll provide the lyrics.
You can hum the tune.


Years on my dear, we can dance under nostalgia’s moon and let our melody move over our souls, reviving and replenishing in the spaces between the here and hereafter.


-Tosha Michelle


‘We found our place
On the branch of an old oak treeOur feet would sway
To a voice in the breezeAnd birds would sing
On the banks of a narrow streamThese memories will stay with me’https://youtu.be/j6Keg3XKKjM

Bonfire Hearts

I haven’t written a proper blog in ages, this post will be no different. Ha ha. To be honest, I haven’t been writing that much. What I have been doing is reading obsessively, watching Ken Burns documentaries, and picking out paint swatches for our home office. What’s that? Did you just say I was a nerd? RUDE (but true). My latest hobby is collecting old books. You can’t have a home office without lots of books. We’ve also taken to cooking more and trying new recipes. When the pandemic is over, everyone is invited her to my house for supper. 😌


In other news, is anyone else glad 2020 is behind us? 2021 is shaping up to be a more hopeful year with a new president and the promise of inoculation against Covid. It’s just heartbreaking all the lives that have been lost. I don’t know anyone it hasn’t affected in some way. My brother got the virus last month, but has recovered. My sister-in-law is currently in the hospital battling it. Say a prayer for her. Thankfully, she is getting really good care The medical field has really made strides when it comes to treating those with Covid, it’s just sad that some hospitals are so overcrowded and people can’t get the help they need I wish that this pandemic had been handled better from the start. Our government really let us down, but let’s not get into politics.


Anyway, I just wanted to touch base with you all. I hope you are well and managing. I think that’s all any of us can do at the moment. On a random note, Jon Stewart is now on Twitter. Oh my God, my tweeting life is complete. 😜❤️


How about we end with a little music from Dashboard Confessional…

I Can’t Hear You.

Raise your hand if you’re tired of keeping company with anxiety, perpetuated by a relentless virus and the dwindling sanity coming out of Washington. The wind there cold and reeking of hubris and greed. Empathy becoming a supernatural thing.


Raise your hand if you’re losing your patience with narcissistic behavior and a culture more into canceling humans instead of reforming them, a society on the precipice of being nothing more than a hollow hulk.


Raise your hand if you’re done with the self absorbed and lack of regard for community. People happy to button their own coats but with no time to consider their neighbor’s thread bare wear.


Raise your hand if you’re tired of apathy, of those wrapped in a flannel sleep, Always content to let others shovel the coals.


Now instead of raising our hands, let raise our voices. Don’t wish for lungs that can sing. Sing! Step up! Be visible. Be heard. The dark blistering rain is not quite frozen yet. Prove that all the light did is far from done.

-Tosha Michelle