when love's lost
and passion gone...
where do i run?
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 5:58 AM UTC
Search my eyes
and then tell me
what you see.
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
i left with tears in my eyes
but returned with a smile
on my face
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 7:44 AM UTC
She was lost.
Lost because she forgot
Forgot because she was distracted
Distracted because she was too busy
Too busy because she attached herself to many
Many things that could never fill the void in her heart
She knew
Knew it would cost her
Her only choice was to let go
Go free in order to find her identity.
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 5:14 AM UTC
~ ~ tomorrow is an unknown song
eagerly waiting to be sung ~ ~
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 8:22 AM UTC
My lips…
Sealed as we converse
My eyes…
Closed at the sight of yours
My doors…
Barred as you knock
My heart…
Locked as you reach out
It screams,
“Do not enter”
It shouts,
“Do not think aloud”
It says,
“Do not tell me”
In deafening silence
And much irony
“Make your move,
But walk away,
Keep silent,
And turn around”
I listen closely
As your footsteps fade
Without saying, I beg,
“Do not tell me”
“Lest I melt
And unlock…”
“Lest I call
And you come back…”
“Lest I gain
Enough might…”
“Lest I fall…”
For your unspoken words
Down on your open palms
Into your rugged arms
With no way out
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 11:18 AM UTC
Summer, Day 1.
Do you know how much I love you?
One day you will.
One day you will.
I haven't even seen you yet,
but I am so in love with you.
When the time comes for us to finally be together, I will drive us somewhere outside this concrete jungle to ask you that. Then I will tell you to look at the stars, and you will try to count them, even if you already know that not enough stars were created to compare it to.
Darling, I dance and I sing and I shake in delight at the thought of being with you. I'm a morning person now, because I know that every waking moment is one day closer to forever.
Summer, Day 2.
I have sworn to save every part of this heart for you. I've loved before, but not like this. Not like this. My stone-heart now made flesh beats as if I'd just been born, as if I'd been made to love and to be loved by you.
Summer, Day 3.
I can't believe you chose me. I can't believe I'm going to get to marry you. We've got quite a long way to go, but I'm already preparing, making sure my dress will be as white as snow, every hair in place, this heart pure and this body untouched until the day I put my hand in yours. I can't wait to see your face when I walk down the aisle. I promise to be the perfect bride, your perfect bride.
Fall, Day 1.
I might not write as much as I did during the summer. Life has been getting busier and busier, but I want you to know that I still love you as much as I did from the first day.
Fall, Day 46.
I've been spending quite a bit of time with someone. He's clever and says the most interesting things. I feel like we will never run out of words to say to one another. We talk everyday, and the funny thing is sometimes I feel my day isn't complete yet if we haven't spoken. Don't worry, my heart is still yours. Just thought I'd let you know.
Fall, Day 52.
I think I love him, but just a little bit. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to cut an inch off of my heart to give to him. It's just an inch less. Surely you won't mind.
Fall, Day 80.
He's been with someone else this entire time. It's a good thing I gave him only an inch of my heart, but the rest is bruised. Don't worry, darling, I'll have it fixed in time.
Fall, Day 100.
It's still beating, but barely. Maybe I should love a little again. Maybe some warmth will do this heart good.
Winter, Day 15.
I think... I gave a little too much.
Winter, Day 50.
My latest disaster said my heart was something worth waiting for. Apparently his second hands tick faster than the usual. He left, taking more than I expected he would.
Winter, Day 65.
Is a heart supposed to look like this?
Winter, Day 90.
I can no longer hear it beating steadily. Some parts have frozen. I have tried to stitch pieces back together and they hold... if you would call it that. There are scars and cuts that haven't healed, swollen bits from the wounds that were infected because I tried to save the poison only to have it lash out and bite me in the back.
Winter, Day 104.
What have I done?
Winter, Day 135.
Look at it. No wait, don't. There isn't anything left to give you, anything worthy enough to even stand in your shadow. I promised you everything now I give you nothing. You waited for me yet I pursued others, consumed by my lust and my pride, where can I hide that I myself will not see this mess of a heart I've created? Where can I run to that I will not have to see the look on your face when you see what I have left to give you? Do you still want this, this broken vessel, this torn up heart, all the pieces that don't fit, all the stitched up parts? Do you still want me?
Spring, Day 1.
You do.
Spring, Day 3.
You do because you knew what you were getting yourself into long before you met me, you knew I would break your heart yet you still asked for mine, you do because you are love itself. A death defeating, grave shaking, forgiving, full of grace and mercy, life and righteousness kind of love. This is the love that chose me. Now I choose you.
Spring, Day 5.
What have I done to deserve this? As far as the east is from the west, so you have cleared my offense. When others asked for me, they knelt on one knee but you asked nailed to a tree. Now here you are. Despite what I've done you want me to return to you, want me to still have you. And you know what?
Spring, Day 7.
I do. And I give my heart to you in absolute surrender and total abandon. Here, though broken and torn, take it and make it new.
It was yours all along. I was yours all along.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 6:04 AM UTC
Why does the world conspire against the eccentric?
Unique is wrong, creativity ostracized.
Numb, blind, masses choose to remain.
Being true to oneself, criminalized.
Like candles whiffed one by one, extraordinary is now a scarcity.
Aristocracy calls for the illiterate, not the enlightened.
We’re surrounded by advancements that dull our minds.
When will we realize, herded we are?
When will we realize, we are assumed usufruct by the elite?
Common folk desensitize incessantly at death’s door.
Robbed of creative thought and ingenuity.
Tolerate, embrace, assimilate, so it seems.
Breaking status-quo is just vagrancy.
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
the small things in life are usually taken for granted
when it is cold outside, I would miss the heat
when the sun shines, I would then miss the rain
my eyes begin to see, little miracles at that moment
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 2:16 AM UTC