“Hello Morons and marsupials to my word press where all things I dare to dred to are open and flashed before your eyes like tears on a woman’s face.”
-Lakira Sharice Mitchum
I have Been skipping out on my WordPress lately but I’m here to do it all over again Happy Halloween everyone! keep it Going so far med school is going pretty well I have a 3.0 Gpa right now! and I’m hoping to bring that up somehow over all I am excited to continue my life as myself.
Thank you, all for your support and celebrating my life and my love for writing. I’ll post a new article soon!keep loving yourself! Never give up on your goals.
-Lakira sharice Mitchum
Quote of the week:
“Without ethics, man has no future. This is to say, mankind without them cannot be itself. Ethics determine choices and actions and suggest difficult priorities.”
So we settle for less…
Dripping blood from my heart I held in my hand, I waited for a answer from him,instead he killed me, he slaughtered me in sacred sin. it was hard to explain it was hard to see my scars, I was burned at a steak at his chapel I was hanged to dry by his men, bishops and popes prayed amen and I stand alone, without understanding for myself.What did I do, where did all of my faith go, where did your silent screams go, the tingles, the ties, the desires and dreams, her poems only lie in ashes in hell.Someone stole my story, my heart , my ideas ,my art,.Saints say they are perfect, saints say are better, saints say their blessed after they murder, who I was was only a mistake.He swallowed me whole and said, “come unto me” but, I lost my soul and my body is only a vessel for a zealous a sacred holy, saints to hurt, And I only see blood and ashes in his hands, the beauty became my chaos so I may lay in the sun rebuked and broken by the man in white, his ancient book is only a list of death threats and a guest list for fools that worship a mans distress on a broken tree, did they really know him or was my worship in vain. That makes me ask what does it mean to be human, what does it mean to be human, to having little depth with, I have no feelings, no tears I’m numb with painted lies across my forehead.stupid with the stressful desire to sin with a warm belly, and lustful heart tight with slight self hatred, I pray against the Lakira syndrome looking for artistic love, that soft petty mini skirt kind of like love, She looks for, Lakira you’re a disease so the say ;so the little bible speaks of the doll faced fool looking for friends in the chapel, the church was insensitive to her existence pathetic fool building her own temple and wrapping yourself in clothing as if she needs them.You don’t belong in the sainthood. You have no friends, you only have your demons and even they hate you. How does she deal with being suddenly a pagan view, she loved that man, that thing they said was only a lamb he was more than that he was rush my passion , the one I dreamed of but now its questionable the skies seem to be bleak he never knew how she felt, he should never speak of it she would rather die. Thousands of years could not explain her strange religion, he will never know the way she would have protested, the saints don’t deserve the man’s death, I know I would shake in tears, your sins are;your faults she argues with herself, they will never know she wants peace, and shes afraid.He would never know he.
she is only less..than what he could be with.
A look at my past…
So looking at me was always less than what you could of had seen, but they think I’m less better, less than Good, less than awesome, instead of October I felt like September, instead Of the butterfly I felt like the fly. I was always less, less than better just almost good.
series begins with a new story