With pale skin it's like my body is covered in glass,
yet no one has dared to look beyond the surface.
So translucent, my veins appear
on my arms, chest, shoulders, and even up my hips
like a map of criss crossing, blood flowing rivers
with no one willing to dive in.
All anyone's ever cared about was the rise and fall
of the mountains and valleys that make my body
and never once have they tried to look at the paths of life,
the trails of love I have within me.
So I carry this world,
and this world carries me.
Without one the other is useless.
One day these mountains will provide someone
with a place to call home and hold in their arms.
But first they must swim in the streams
and explore the forest of my mind.
Only then will I be known
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 11:05 PM UTC
It feels as though Mother Nature
has just lazily opened her eyes.
The snow turns to puddles
under her powerful gaze.
Her tired yawns
blow my hair over my face.
The flowers and leaves slowly
start to reach for their mother.
It feels as though my soul,
is too reaching for her.
We have awakened.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 9:02 AM UTC
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
I'm a mover and a shaker that hasn't found her groove.
I've got plans and I've got dreams but I lack the motivation.
One day I will pick myself up,
and slowly but surely,
I will start bopping and jiving,
to the sound of my own drum.
But until then,
I'll sit back and watch others,
as they slide and glide,
into the lives they've created for themselves.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 7:40 AM UTC
Falling for you was just too easy.
Smooth words, late nights.
Enough to make a young girl cry.
I fell for you a bit too fast.
I'm not too sure how to make us last.
Cause if I fell so easily.
And you knocked down my highest walls.
How am I to know it's not just me?
I feel the heartache setting in.
Bracing myself for crashing down.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
"Whenever you're stressed,
you internalize it to your gut"
my doctor told me.
My mother always said:
"You feel everything in your stomach."
And it all makes sense now,
How I got knots and twists,
when you said goodbye.
And how I got nauseous,
when I saw you holding her hand.
But if that's true,
why does my chest hurt so much?
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
It was the kind of love that was good,
so good,
God, it was good,
right until it wasn't.
It was like thunder was falling
and the rain was screeching
and the look in your eyes told me we were over
before your mouth had the chance.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
I was so heartbroken over you until the plane took off and I felt the rush as we went down the runway and realized you had never made me feel even close to as good as I did in that moment.
As we climb the sky my spirit climbs with it higher and higher as my heart distances itself from yours. It is the first time in 2 weeks I have felt good about something. I'm just scared that this feeling will be as temporary as we were.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
As I enter the room
my eyes are drawn
against all my will
to your hand
wrapped round
gently, firmly,
the guitar neck.
My own now feels cold
and bare.
Phantom fingers
stroke my skin
as I watch the real form
perfectly placed.
I imagine your touch.
Each finger makes a different note.
Make me sing.
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC
He was:
Mascara and hairspray and whitening tooth paste that made my mouth feel slimy.
You are:
Understanding and appreciative and you don't notice anything but my eyes and the way they are unapologetic when they display my emotions for you to see.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC