As a child I remember being outside in fall. I stood in the open field, surrounded by a fence of trees. The wind blew hard and steady, pulling the orange, red and brown leaves from their branches and into the air like snow. I spun around in circles, arms out, head turned up towards the sky, dancing in the leaf rain. They fell so beautifully and slowly, I didn’t want it to end. That magical moment when the world stopped and only I existed in it. - C.A. Sullivan
I often feel trapped by the expectations and cultural normalities of this world. I want to be free of this worry. Free of the confines of money, debts, responsibilities. Everything seems so complicated. I often wish for a more simple life. The older I get, the more challenging things become. - C.A. Sullivan
I’ve always felt like I was here to do more. Have a greater purpose. When life changes, I think here it is, This is my purpose. But as time passes, It becomes stale again, I become restless. I find myself unhappy again and wanting to move on. Why is nothing good enough? Is it me? Or am I not on the right path. And this is my body’s way of telling me. How do I find my path?
– C.A. Sullivan
I feel so disconnected The days where I felt intertwined With the universe and all it’s inhabitants That magic surging through me And out my fingertips Into everything I touch Has passed That energy that makes me feel so alive Is dead It never seems to last for long when it comes I beg it to stay but it slowly slips away Into the night leaving just as quietly as is came
– C.A. Sullivan
I feel deeply I feel others pain As if it were my own It puts me in a position to Empathize with people In a world that’s so insensitive I take on their feelings They become part of me Almost as if hoping that would take some of their pain away But the cost on my own mental health Is draining How do you recharge when Caring so deeply for others Sucks the very breath From your lungs The beats from your heart The life from your soul How do you find balance Empathy is my gift And my curse
– C.A. Sullivan
The cottage stood all alone, Collecting dust and leaves. Weathered by the elements, Forgotten and left behind. The air here used to be warm, Bursting with the scent of vanilla, Sweet like cinnamon sugar, Sparkling with magic. Now all that fills its rooms, Is the sting of heartbreak, Of a love long lost. It’s despair whispers through the empty rooms, Cutting through the air, Like the sharp edge of a knife, Landing on the hearts of its victims. The doors close, Trapping me inside. Forever lost.
– C.A. Sullivan
These blank pages intimidate me. Why can’t I write on them? I touch the pages Turn on some music Light a candle In hopes it will inspire me To write something profound But the empty page Only stares back at me I go weeks without writing And when I finally can put words to the page There aren’t many of them My dream is to write a book But at this rate It will be merely be a collection Of random thoughts Captured throughout my life Mostly in times of pain or struggle Because those are the times My feelings are strongest Maybe it’s not that I’m no good at writing, It’s that I don’t put enough time into making it something more.
– C.A. Sullivan
Your silence is deafening, As you sit there and say nothing, As you stand by and watch, As persecution continues, As you stare at your screen, At those who lost their lives, At those who tried to fight, For what is right, As they stand together, You stand for nothing, Your silence is deadly. C.A. Sullivan
There’s something magic about a page, when letters turn to words, turn to phrase. Each with meaning and powerful tone, giving books a breath, a soul, a life their own. C.A Sullivan
Sometimes we tell our truth only to get laughed at. Sometimes we wear our heart on our sleeve only to have it ripped off. Sometimes we bare our secrets wanting them to set us free only to be destroyed by them. Sometimes we are vulnerable only to be made a fool. Sometimes. The rest of the time we are the ones doing the laughing. Ripping the hearts. Destroying the honesty. Making others to feel a fool. The rest of the time we are the enemy. Judging, mocking, belittling. Look in the mirror. Set yourself free.
C.A. Sullivan
The Illuminated Page 