"The world is in my hands"
It's a metaphor
Pinching the moon (with one eye closed)
It's an illusion
The spiders under my bed,
Tell me it's okay to dream,
And then they bite me
In my sleep
I toss and I turn till morning
I turn away from the day,
And I toss the remains into the night
Despite it all, I dream.
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 9:53 PM UTC
You can't call a soul
@9pm
But is lifetimes away
From awakening
As much as I adore the sound of your voice
You don't sound like yourself
When you're tired anyway
I'll let you sleep.
It's your sleep
Your journey
And it's the most important.
And not mine to disrupt.
I shake your slumber
I make the room too hot
And too cold
I'm dancing with the music high
And crying louder than the music's lows
You'll be waking up too soon with me around.
And it's important to get the full amount
Before you awake
It's a good thing my feet are on the ground
Otherwise, I'd fly right over through you window.
And if the shattering glass managed to sound better
Than the fall to the floor,
I wouldn't be up to much sleeping either
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
; and you iniciated it.
you found your way
and you meant it.
I understood
with the immediate
connection of our eyes
and the composure of your face
that you were really here
in front of me
Without permission
and without validation
we both cried in joy
at the same time,
hugging
I'm dreaming,
I know it.
crying deeper
Intensely in love
with arrising sorrow
My dream
delivered a moment
that I will value
like the love we
deserved
I stopped questioning,
and looked into your
eyes again
before returning to
your embrace,
Because I wasn't going
to waste this
regardless of the reality
of it.
I love you.
I irrationally and intensely love you.
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
Solid like sand
Panic and sweat
The despair of a
Wandering soul
Frantically paced
It passes you by
You stand still in
Panic
Your sweat is the
Ocean mist
Your panic is the
Rushing waves
The beautiful wave
In your hair
Sea salt sprays
To caress your aura
In fogged saute
Travels,
The tides lowered
To reveal this
Wonderful place.
Cutting the ropes
Free, to sail
Another day
Because right now
I enjoy being ashore
The sun rises, the
Sun sets
All in opaque skys
The sun is meeting
Its last cloud,
And I'll be
Finally ashore
For its arrival.
The warm
Rays on this
Wet skin.
Basking in it,
Even before
It begins
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 1:20 PM UTC
How beautiful a skirt
twirling.
Creating your own wind
a smile, so genuine
a laugh, a grin
Spinning in your dress
making the crowd
swirl
Dancing alone, in your favourite shoes
ones that weren't
handed down to you.
You dance in blue
Spots, and black.
The wooden floors and all their cracks.
You sing the lullaby
and dance yourself to sleep.
You awake in a song
and play it all again
on repeat
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
Silence, I'd want all of it.
Running so fast after that button was missed
Too anxious to really make it a hit
Among everyone, there'd be admiration
A sun, or two.
But the work wasn't up to par for you
At least that's what I heard
I don't write for anyone, as blunt as that may seem
I still find myself looking for approval
For the work already created
I'm not looking for validation
To create and be creative
But often too afraid to strike out
In dissassaproval
Of work, I'm most vulnerable of.
I don't ever want to create a piece that has no resolution
To just leave an open wound or thought
Left to be just that
I feel obligated to share a brightening shade to my darkest moments
In order for someone to truly benefit from my shared work
That is why the pieces in my drafts, stay in draft.
But what I can tell you is,
I'm still not always ok.
I feel like my life is kept in the drafts folder.
Yeah, I'm always progressing in life, in the journey
Even in what seem like standstill moments
Of solitude and suffering.
But that's the thing,
I'm progressing
So isn't all work, published or not in life, still a "draft"?
None of our journies are over yet.
Let's share our drafts
And create our finished work, together
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 8:57 PM UTC
Just fading, fading in and not out. A wide eyed, glazed stare. Looking so deeply, at nothing. Loving deeply, loving intensely.
I must be insane. So clearly, so erotically, insane.
Thinking you'll be here. Waiting for the call. Your words. A surprise, to wake up, to see you, to see you want what isn't there. For it to be fulfilling, and to be my satisfaction.
Wanting to say no, I'd say yes, and then always asking myself why.
So intensely, so lovingly, so delusional. so insane.
Like when you're tired. So sleepy, you nod your head. As if it were 50 lbs and you keep driving anyway. The second your eyes close longer than the average blink, you burst out of the trance as if electrocuted. Startling yourself, ******
So angered at the mere thought of falling asleep at the wheel. No harm done, but still shook by where you almost were. The point you almost reached
I'm done wanting the ring. The sound of the phone. The regret and hope in the tone. Your voice can be heard by another, but not me.
I want to love myself, as much as I've loved the idea, of love.
I heard if i love life, that it will love me back.
What if I'm done expecting anything in return,
Could I still, love life
What if I just let life do whatever it feels,
And I take care of the love part, for myself.
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
In a hand,
or two
Pocketing shells
to hear the ocean,
somewhere else
I lie awake
Can't sleep, @ night
Wondering how
that could be?
So I returned the shells
to the ocean,
to hear it again
I trusted in their placement,
that they were right where
they should be
And collapsed in weeping
When the answer arrived
That I was meant to be here too
I never made the return drive
home
because home was right here
I trusted in their placement
And in return, found mine
And the last line has yet to be written
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC
Chained to the moon
Creatures of the night and habit
The phases and the phrases
Spoken, much the same
Are we much like the moon in that way?
Tilting and shifting
A gradual slide
Through the spectrums of consciousness
We are wide awake
Much like this moon
And as the tides within us, settle like the waves
And lower, like the tides
We find ourselves calm again
Until the next, high tide
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 11:51 PM UTC
Lost in a film
I'll get lost in over thinking
Lost in your need for company
And bored with the idea of small talk tonight,
Or always
Annoyed in all that it is
To talk and exist
With someone else
When all that I want
Is to be alone
And if I wanted more, I'd find it.
I'll find you right where you were before
And I'll find myself, on a journey
I'll sit in the back, or maybe the middle.
Not wanting to be seen, I'll dress bland
And crowd myself with anxiety,
That should fill a few seats
"Don't sit next to me"
"No, I'm fine"
"Yes, I came here alone"
No, this seat isn't taken
Yes, I'd like a friend
No, no one said a word.
I would have left lonelier
From having to play pretend
So instead, I said nothing, and thought nothing
And found me being a friend to myself
Instead.
And it was freaking awesome.
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC