I close my eyes and lay my ear against your chest to hear the rapid, but somehow still steady beat of your heart and the sound of the blood rushing through your veins has always made me think of sun rises, of blindingly white light and pink hues in the skies. Hearing the blood course through your body reminds me of sunrises, of another beautiful day, another day to be grateful, like somehow your existence has a correlation with the heavens and maybe you're not even aware of it. Like every battle drum song echoing in your chest signifies another beautiful day awakening in a life that could be ours. And when I finally lift my head from your chest and I see your eyes looking heavy because they carry the weight of every sunset that you've sworn wouldn't be washed out by the vibrant crimson of the insides of your wrists. Like every time you blink you hold the power of every moon phase in that one simple movement, and isnt it funny how that one simple movement is so powerful, do you even realize how powerful you are even in your simplicity? But then again Mother Nature never stops to admire herself, but then again do we ever give her the chance? We always twist the beauty she gives us into acts against our humanity, we always turn the failing of our ozone layer into a crime instead of an act of loneliness. Mother Nature wants to show us all the warmth she has to offer, Mother Nature wants to shower us in the warmth that our kind has always been lacking. We always turn the rare colors of the sea into an act of violence, when all the waves wanted to do was show us how beautiful they are when they try to cleanse something so impure. They never meant to harm us, but my dear take a leaf from their book and do not ever forget, do not ever apologize for being so beautiful while still remaining so powerful.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 12:58 AM UTC
YOU ARE NOT WHO YOU WERE FIVE YEARS AGO YOU ARE NOT WHO YOU WERE SEVEN SECONDS AGO YOUR PAST SELVES ARE BURRIED DEEP IN THE CEMETERIES BETWEEN YOUR RIBS YOU ARE BORN AGAIN IN THE SPACES SEPERATING YOUR KNUCKLES
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 11:52 PM UTC
**SOMEONE TOLD ME ONCE THAT MY WORDS SET FIRES IN PEOPLES CHESTS THAT IT CONSUMES EVERYTHING IN ITS WAKE AND THE MORE THAT IS TURNED INTO ASH THE MORE BEAUTIFUL AND ******* TERRIFYING IT IS AND ITS FUNNY BECAUSE THATS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL WHEN I LOOK INTO YOUR EYES AND IT DOESNT MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I TELL PEOPLE I WILL LET THE PAGES AROUND MY NECK DROWN ME BEFORE I LET THE FIRE GET TO ME BUT THERE WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH WATER TO DOUSE THE FLAME THAT IS IN YOUR EYES OR MAYBE THATS JUST A REFLECTION OF THE ONE YOU SET IN MINE**
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 7:22 PM UTC
I HAVENT SLEPT IN WEEKS I HAVENT DREAMT IN YEARS EVEN THE NIGHTMARES HAVE GOTTEN TIRED OF SEEING MY FACE
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC
who you loved does not matter when you're dead, what you did for them does. energy cannot be destroyed or created. so use your energy to do something for someone, no matter how big or small, because that's the **** that will last.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 7:52 PM UTC
STOP TRYING TO FIT PEOPLE INTO BOXES OUR ATOMS LOOK LIKE TINY UNIVERSES FOR A REASON WE ARE CONSTANTLY GROWING WE WILL DEVOUR YOUR IDEALS OF WHAT WE SHOULD BE LIKE BLACKHOLES SWALLOW LIGHT AND AND SPIT YOU OUT INTO INFINITE NOTHINGNESS
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
love is like the night sky
stars upon stars
all out of order and no
sense of direction
it takes a skilled eye
and a reckless heart
to try to tame these things
to take form of something
but sometimes stars fall
but if love is a night sky
you are my north star
and i am the astronomer
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
too many strangers have called this body of mine home
what they don't realize is that under the pretty painted
walls and the beautiful chandeliers, the entire foundation
is crumbling to pieces and this home was not built out of
love and to preserve life, it is full of lies and confusion and
hurt. they see the dried up paint that ran down the sides of
the shutters when it rained and they think that just a new
coat of white will cover it up, they don't know that the runs
are the cuts to form over old scars, they confuse paint with
blood. i beg of you, please get an inspector to look at me
before you buy into this tragedy, not that you would last
long, the ghosts that wander these halls will scare you out
before you can unpack the first box.
"you can not make homes out of human beings.
someone should have already told you that by now."
i can't be your home when i don't even feel at home
in my own skin.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 9:40 AM UTC
you always said everything was
black and white so why do your
words bleed orange sunsets in
to my black lungs
my dad used to crash his cars
for fun, he used to have competitions
to see how many times he could
roll his car, and it's been years
since he's been in an accident
but sometimes i can still see him
speed up and i wonder if he misses
the thrill or if he just can't break
the habit.
when we do things long enough
we can never really get rid of them
even when we're not thinking
about it, our subconcious does all
the work
that's what it's like to love you
i dont even have to remember to
i just do
you are the last three seconds of
a sunset frozen in forever,
you are in my veins.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 12:47 AM UTC
today it rained and
thundered so loudly that
the whole house shook
when it roared and
the lighting so bright
i had to blink
several times before i
could see straight again.
and i cried. and
i wondered if you
thought about me.
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC