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Brianna Sep 2019
The anatomy of ones heart seems complicated and intense.
The valves and the tubes and the scars from time taking its toll.
The blood and the veins helping to keep one alive.
The memories it holds and the heartbreak it endures and thrives from over and over again.

But the anatomy of my heart is simple.
It’s filled with trees billowing and waving in the wind.
It has salt water from the bluest oceans flowing through the veins keeping me afloat with summer dreams.
It has been slowly and faster in the throes of passion and in the woes of pain.
It has shown me that through adventure and wonder I can keep myself alive.

So tell me... how does the anatomy of your heart look?
Brianna Sep 2019
The prettiest sunset I had ever seen was  during the largest fire we had had in a long time.
It was smoke covered reds and pinks and yellows.
It was hazy blues and darkening grays.
It was as if the sky was screaming for help while it was also fading away hoping sleep would clear the bad dreams.

And all the while I watched the sun set and the colors fade to night and I knew...
that even the worst of days can fade into something peaceful for even just one moment.

And I knew... that my bad day would burn out like the fire one day...
Brianna Aug 2019
I heard you weren't doing that great and part of me wanted to call and see just how bad you were but then I started thinking about a few of the things you ruined for me after you left.

Green eyes.
The taste of cinnamon.
The pink pens in my bag.
Mixed CD's.
Hydrangeas.
Fireflies and small country towns.
The drive way at my parents house.
The old road you used to live on.
The fact that I feel you in every part of this ****-hole town.

I heard from an old friend things were getting better for you now and I think... it's for the best that we never speak again.
Brianna Mar 2019
Truly, it was complicated.
It was oranges and blues so contrasting I couldn't tell if it was summer or winter.
It was the smell of lemons and the taste of sugar, but was it really lemonade  or poison in disguise?

Captured memories in photographs around the walls of this cage.
I wanted to run.
I need to run.

The wind picked up outside and my urge to move cam as fast as the storm.
It was always so complicated.
I never understood why we couldn't just slow down and dream a little.
Slow down and feel a little.

Truly, It was complicated.
Brianna Mar 2019
It was New York.
La vie en rose playing in the background as you read a script you wrote the morning before.
The way your blue eyes look so sad and yet so peaceful and you smirk for me and me alone.
The way your hands are rougher then they should be but touch me softer then they should as well.
We were passing cars in the night.
Looking for each other as destinations we would never get too.

It was North Carolina.
It was green. So much green.
It was airports that seemed to hold too many tears and not enough smiles.
It was road trips that blossomed into a never ending love and irrational  fear.
It was summer in July and the way your lips found mine in every moment of every time.
You were the light I had been searching for my whole life.
And you became the darkness that was always there under my skin.
You are my unfinished book and my unfinished heart.

It was California.
It was never enough and thoughts that don’t ever truly go away.
It was watching you leave.
Your fresh start, your growth.
My jealousy, my envy.
My wishful and spiteful thoughts of wanting to be in your shoes but not wanting you enough.

It was Nevada.
Damaged and  uncontrollable.
The never ending fighting and back and forth insecurities.
Your ability to make me swoon and cry in the one sitting was gold.
The unquestionable loyalty I had to ruining my own life.
The sadness and depression.
The love I had but never dared speak of.
The way you broke me down and don’t understand my feelings still to this day.
***** and *******.
Your true loves.

It was Me.
My will to love too much and yet not enough.
My hazel eyes and mismatched hair.
My gaze of sadness and darkness watching the men come and go from my life.
My inability to connect because of damaged heart strings.
But
It’s also my strength in finding my flaws.
The power I have to change.
The growth at self confidence and care I am working on.
It’s me.
It’s them.
It’s someday... someday finding someone who won’t leave.
Brianna Mar 2019
Sunday light drenches the window where you may upon the unmade bed.
You and your roughed up hair.

Watching the sun bathe your skin you smell like musky woods and fresh rain and I want to capture it in a bottle forever.
It could be our secret.
It could be just for me & you.

Saturday is fragmented glimpses of our future and I know that when we awake the morning will have to keep the secrets of the night before.
My body tangled in your black sheets.
Strands of vanilla and lavender scented hair scattered around your bed.
Your arms graze my fire skin and I am alive with lust and hints of love.

Sunday holds the key to happiness.
Sunday’s were made for love.
Brianna May 2018
She was fascinating.
Not because she was drop dead gorgeous or oh my god beautiful.

No, she had humor she used as a weapon.
No, she had love she used a shield.
No, she had strength hidden behind layers of wisdom.

She was fascinating.
In the way that made men cringe and made women envious.
She was the type of girl you wanted to get to know if only to keep her close by.
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