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I’m weak and tired,
shaky and damaged.
Why does strength make me
weak?
Why every time I stand strong
do I shake and inside,
turn meek?
Strength rips off my flesh
and tears my insides
so the timid, helpless child
can no longer hide—
No longer hide
the tears, the screams
the slashing, the gashing,
the moaning the pain,
the ashes, the crashes,
the rain, no gain.
Strength grabs me, it stabs me
and sets me afire;
it slaps me, it snaps me,
running me down
to the mud and the mire.
I walk proudly
as strength kills me from the
inside out.
I scream and shout
but my pain reaches not one ear
while I fall and shake,
cry and break;
yelling for something to save
me,
for strength to stop raping me
and killing me
with every breath I take.
•His encyclopaedic knowledge and his lively presentation of subjects, as dry as astronomy, made him a celebrated figure. His treatise such as Pancha Siddhantika (Five Principles), Brihatsamhita (Master Collection), Brahjataka(Astrological work) have put him on as high a pedestal in Astrology as Kautilya’s in Political philosophy, Manu’s in Law or Panini’s in Grammar.
Rare Gospel Written by Medieval Women Could Fetch More Than $1 Million at Auction
A recently discovered gospel likely written by women at the abbey of Essen in the 10th century could sell for more than $1 million.
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Recipes for capirotada — a bread pudding served on Good Friday — vary across the country, but it's usually made from:
- Bread similar to a baguette (bolillo), which has been soaked in mulled syrup made from sugar, cinnamon sticks, and cloves.
- Nuts, dried fruit, and sprinkles are common toppings.
Capirotada is meant to signify the crucifixion: the cinnamon sticks represent the cross, the cloves represent the nails, and the bread represents Christ's Body.
My heart is in your hands. What will you do with it?
I give it freely; I've not had it broken before.
I may not deserve it, but I hope we end together.
We may not make it, but we have to try, right?
How could we sacrifice what we have, something so beautiful.
These are the things dreams are made of, that which we have,
Things sometimes never achieved.
We have.
You tell me you're mine, if I ever want you.
How could you even doubt it?
I never have.
You say you're independent - so am I.
You don't want to be tied down too early.
I'll help you fly.
You say you don't want to spend eternity without me.
What kind of God would do that to us?
Not any God of mine.
Time wasted on meaningless pastimes, without you.
So many things I want you to see, to be with me through.
I can't wait for the day I never leave you, together.
The day we become one, in God's eyes, forever.
Love does not begin to say it all.
