I can hear the demons whispering

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Something is happening inside me. I can feel new life running through my veins. Fresh blood. An intoxicating rush of red rivers underneath the surface. The essence of my life. Red. Glowing. Beating. Like it should be.

The sensuality of spring is inspiring. The newness of time, the texture of growth, the birth of a season – of life itself. A thin veil of protection, then exposed and raw in its delicacy. True vulnerability is the source of any greatness. I close my eyes but my world stays intact – there’s no darkness behind the light. Not even a shadow.

I can sense new artworks being born inside my mind like soft dreams but with such clarity that I immediately surrender to it’s pull. I hear my demons whispering inside. I am about to give birth to new life – just like momma spring. I can feel it. They want out of me. And they will take little pieces of pain with them – pain that will never return to my inner world.

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