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Feb 29 · 609
Promise
TS Feb 29
When you promised me forever, I was silly to think you'd keep your word
Because I was taught that those things should be felt louder than they're heard

Promises by their definition are strength and willingness
To hold your word up higher than your own satiated bliss.

I could never be enough for you or anything you hoped we'd be
Thought I was exploring the sand ***** but was really drowning in your sea.

I've lived in the shadow of your former lover which we both knew could never last
And still I stayed with shallow hope that you'd bring me back after each cast

The rhythm in which I write now is filled with chaos and urgency
To get out every feeling quick enough, grasping at who I'm trying to be.

The promises I made to you through letters, painting, and home baked cookies
Are the ones that echo in my mind when I wipe the quiet and slow tears from my cheeks

Healing, growing, moving on feel a little stranger now
Deep breaths, a slight grin and even a softened brow

Silly little me promised to always love you.
And though that may look different now,
I forever still do.






-t.s.
Feb 23 · 595
"Trauma"
TS Feb 23
Being talked down to -
That never happened.

Being taken advantage of -
That isn't true.

Being stood up -
That's dramatic.

Being violated -
That's just plain wrong.

Being broken -
That's pathetic.


You put finger quotes around my word. The word I used to open up to you.

But oh... I'm so sorry. I didn't realize that you majored in my trauma enough to tell me my own history.



-t.s.
Feb 23 · 666
A Tricky Thing
TS Feb 23
Trust is a tricky thing.

One person in your life can shake the ground you walk on forever without a second thought.

Your own anxieties bring insecurities that make you lose trust in people. It's not always their fault, but when those sneaking feelings end up being true, ******* it takes so much to come back from that.

Distrust and uncertainty seep into everything moving forward. You can't help but compare and see similarities. ***** the glaring and incredible differences, you will still find ways to not trust him. It's not fair to him, but you feel jaded like it doesn't matter anyway. Continue building those walls and slamming more bricks up there each and every time you have a concern, warranted or not.

You'll push everyone away because you will never be able to let go of those parts of yourself.



-t.s.
Feb 23 · 243
The End of Our Story
TS Feb 23
11.29.23 I'll start the story and then never finish it because there will always be more to write. There will always be more to our story. Or so I hope.




2.2.24 I started the story and never finished because missing you cuts too deep to write of our missed adventures. There are no more words left to our story.




Because it's not our story anymore.




-t.s.
Feb 23 · 292
I'll Say It Anywhere
TS Feb 23
You told me you loved me amongst the crowd of a Steelers game while we were searching for a hot dog and soda. Not the most enchanting, but perhaps I watch too many rom-coms for my own good. I think I've always just romanticized each aspect of a relationship and all the major moments based on what media told me meant the most.

Opening my eyes now, those special moments aren't always at a candlelit dinner or by a fireplace, many times they are at a cookout with your friends or the zoo with my nieces and nephews. The beauty of feeling something so deeply that you just have to say it, even if it's in front of a porta ***** at a church festival or the stoplight on your way home, that's the real love that people feel.

So when I tell you I love you while sitting on my couch on a random Monday night, know that I mean it. Know that every muscle in my body wanted to tell you because I didn't wait for candlelight or an array of stars, instead I told you in the most real way, our way.

We will still have those romantic moments on a boat under the moonlight or the fireplace of an old house, but we will also have those passionate moments where we couldn't keep our feelings in anymore and the most appropriate place just happens to be a crowded train on the way downtown and an airport bar. I love you and I'll say it anywhere.



-t.s.
Feb 23 · 330
He's Gone
TS Feb 23
He's gone.

And that kinda *****.

He wasn't who I thought he was. He was more capable of anger and ruthlessness than I imagined. Saying things that tear out the most vulnerable parts and stab them to bits.

He was more childish than I thought he'd be for his age. He spends recklessly, doesn't have handsoap in his bathroom, and watches TV from a desk chair.

He was flaky and shady. Giving little information and being dodgy about his phone and whereabouts. He consistently cancelled plans and left me in the lurch.

He was never going to think about someone else for a change or be truly and deeply mindful of his significant other.

He had a sharp tongue and a hard head. If I didn't select every word carefully, he would snap and say horrible things.

He didn't let her go. As much as he would deny it, Priya still has a hold on him. He can't let her go. He would say terrible things about her and then also say I was like her.  He would delete her messages and lie about her texting him. He carried through the trauma and treated me like her. He wanted a relationship to just pick up where that one left off and not put the effort into 'dating'. I was a continuation of his previous relationship - all the history but only the good person.

He was boastful and also self-deprecating.

He drank too much and smoked too much.

He didn't follow through on things he said he would do.

He love bombed me and then pulled away to where I felt empty.

He's gone.

And that kinda *****.

And I'm sad that I still miss him.



-t.s.
Feb 23 · 500
I Picked You
TS Feb 23
My friends tell me it was only a couple of months.
I should feel better by now.
I should feel lighter and happier.
Some days I am and some days my heart hurts deeply.
I realized that even though it was only a couple of months, you were the reason I came back to this part of the world.
The part of the world when I felt comfortable in love.
The place where I realized that I could do this again.
The moment where I let love feel safe again.
After 7 years of self discovery and healing, I brought myself back to the world of falling in love....

and I picked you.

What a stupid thing to do.



- t.s.
Jul 2022 · 3.6k
Mountain Climbing
TS Jul 2022
Who decided that the top of the mountain was the goal in climbing? I mean, I guess I understand the concept of why but thinking more abstractly, who decided what the rules were?

People.

Just people.

We are people, right? Does that mean we decide the rules? Not always. Most of the time the rules and goals are set by the mindset of the masses. Whoever is loudest or has the most connections sets the trends, makes those rules, and decides the goal.

Why?

Why are people so looked down on for going against the grain of the popular mindset?

You go to high school.
Okay - that's the law.

You go to college.
I mean, I guess.

You borrow tens of thousands of dollars from the government and even private banks to go to college.
Well, I don't really want to do that.
Well, you have to or you won't get a good job.
Well, why?
Because education shows you how things are done and how to do them right.
Okay, I mean, I get that. But what if that isn't for me? What if I don't thrive from that and instead of learning and growing, you are just creating bad habits, watching your confidence tank, and thousands of dollars go in the toilet.
Well then go work a minimum wage job.
Okay.

You get a job. Or not.
Okay, I guess.

You work to save up money to buy a house but you still have to pay rent which is very expensive.
Well, I guess that's okay but won't it take me forever to save?
Yes, with the job you have from a lack of university education, yes.

You spend years saving.
Cool.

You buy a house.
Awesome! My first house! But I spent all this money that I spent years saving and now I am locked into this and if anything ever goes wrong, I'm *******.
This looks like it will happen sooner rather than later with how cheap this house was.
Well, that's all I could afford.
Well, maybe you should get a better job.
Well, I can't because I don't have a degree.

You work until you are 70.
Oh yeah, I've had to give 10% of my salary to my 401k in order to pay for my future without working. But, inflation is a thing and now all that planning puts me back at the amount I needed 40 years ago, not what things cost now.

You move out of your house and into a cheaper apartment.
Well, I guess this is all I can afford at this point.

You live out the rest of your days there and pass away.




What a life right? Sounds like a book I would read - NOT.

Give or take a few privileges and/or road blocks some people may have, this is pretty much it. Even if you pay for the college education, you still don't have much of an advantage. You pay off years and years of college debt - so unless you make 6 figures, that will take you until you're 70. This means you will likely get your house much later and also just be stuck in the same ending.

Why?

Why is this the path we are 'supposed' to take? Who decided this?

We do.

Every day that we get up, WE decide our actions that day. WE determine our own future - not the societal mindset.

Sure there is more friction going against the grain. It's hard. But is it harder than living a life that doesn't bring you fulfillment?

Think of mountain climbing. The goal is to get to the top right? Wrong. The goal is decided by each climber. If you want to go to the top, great. If you don't, also great. Each climber has a different way of getting where you want to go - some take an incline (upper class, money, prestige), some people pay a guide (university education), some people drive (start your own business), some depend on others to carry them (disabled, poor), some are the ones who carry others (volunteers, charity, servants). No specific way is wrong and no specific goal is wrong. If your goal is the top, then to the top you shall go. Your path may have different pitfalls, you might go a different speed, you might die before you make it to the top; but some people don't even go to the top. Some people take their time.

My goal isn't the top. I want to live for the views as I climb, whether clouded by blankets of green or the most crystal clear blue sky meets the horizon. I want to find beauty in the little things around me, not just rush to the top because its the option chosen by many. I want every hammock tree spot, every waterfall creek pool, every season change from a soft layer of snow to the sloshy mud underfoot, every critter discovery, every art-inspired shot. I want to settle in a place that other might just rush by but only settle for a little while - until I want a new view.

People say that the best view is the one from the top where you can see it all - but I disagree. The best view is the many you will see along the way - the little details on each tree, each rock, or on the ground. From the very top, you don't see the detail - you see the bigger picture. I'm sure the picture is great, but rather than buy the print, I would prefer to do the puzzle - that would be far more fulfilling for me.
Jul 2022 · 353
The Heavy Things
TS Jul 2022
An unexpected trigger arose today. I won a brass mirror in a raffle that I was able to take home to use in my house. The staff helped me load it into my car, but now I have to get it into the house.

I helped my friend, who won a shelf from that same raffle, load it into her car. She took it home and her husband helped unload it and put it into place.

All of a sudden, a wave of sadness washed over me.

I don't have that.

I don't have someone to help me carry in the groceries, someone to sit next too while I talk about my day, someone to offer me a hand with the dishes, or someone to help with the heavy things.

There's some sort of double meaning there that one could uncover. How I not only have to carry the truly heavy things alone, but also how I have to carry the emotionally heavy things alone.

So much of my life I have been independent - practically taught to be that way from a young age. It was expected that if something needed carried, washed, or felt, I had to handle it alone. Typically I would consider independence a good things, but this one wrecked me. It reminded me of how truly alone I am in this life.

Of course I have friends to talk to, people who can help me move if planned far enough in advance, and friends who I can have dinner with - but every one of those things is circumstantial and temporary.

I consistently try to be comfortable with who I am enough that I don't NEED anyone but honestly, sometimes that isn't enough.

I may appear fiercely independent and self sufficient, but inside, I am still that little girl who feels forced to do the hard things alone. The little girl who was taught that help and companionship is a luxury only some people find. You can't buy it, you can't manufacture it, you can negotiate it. There are just some things in this life that alone-people will never have.

It reminds me of this movie I saw where the main character is so used to being alone that she invents things to make her life easier as an alone-person. Specifically she makes a device that helps her zipper her dress without the help of another person. Its so sad to me that the world and the way it works is created for community, its created for people who have people. True self-sufficiency doesn't exist.

Now I'm forced to sit here with this mirror in the backseat, reminded by it's presence that I am alone, at the core, in this world.

So I'll walk out of here, go home, and sit alone on my couch, eat dinner alone, and cry alone, while the mirror stays, unmovable, alone in the car. Like me, forced to understand that without help, you can never truly be powerful enough to be completely independent.  





-t.s.
May 2021 · 248
Daily Battle
TS May 2021
A ******* stone surrounded by a faint light greets me. It's presence brings with it heaviness and lifelessness. I feel my chest lighten as the breath escapes my lungs. I gasp for more air but there is none to hold on to.

Impending doom creeps around me, surrounding me on all sides. The weight of it's energy drags me to my knees. I fight to stand but the earth quakes beneath my feet.

I reach up as to latch on to something, anything to help me pull up. But everything is gone. There are no people, no furniture, no walls, no earth, no sky. Only the stone inching closer to me.

I collapse fully under the weight of the unobtainable air. The darkness drifts over me, swallowing me whole. I evaporate out of existence, consumed by the pain I carried, engulfed by the sorrow my heart held.

I am no more. Finally, peace.






-t.s.
Jun 2020 · 329
Seasons of You
TS Jun 2020
Sitting on my porch with a messy bun atop my head, wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt, spiral bound notebook in hand, and my knees up to my chest.

Reflecting on the years past, the bridges that I've built and the ones I've burned. It's interesting how seasons play such a big part of our lives. The weather is just one of those. It's cold outside, we change our clothes to warmer ones, light fires in the fireplace, drink warm drinks. It's hot outside, we change our clothes to cooler ones, swim in cool water, drink ice cold drinks. We are constantly trying to be exactly the opposite of our surroundings. Why?

Besides the general scientific fact of hypothermia and heat exhaustion, we not only change who we are in season of weather but in seasons of life. When we are in high school, all we do is long to grow up. When we are grown, we miss those carefree nights catching fireflies in our backyard. When we need friends so bad that we would do anything, even reject who we are, to be important to someone. When we recognize our importance and that quality over quantity is key.

Life holds so many twists and turns. One can look back on the last 5 years of your life and see just how much you've changed, how those around you have changed and the changes that will come in the path ahead.

It's okay to not be the same, feel the same, or want the same things as you did 5 years ago. You didn't disappoint your younger self, you just grew. You grew into someone new that has been seasoned by life experience. At 17, maybe all you wanted was to go to college, get drunk, have tons of friends, and be free. At 32, all you need is a quiet home with space just for you and your art. You yourself are a season and it's perfectly okay to change.



-t.s.
May 2020 · 368
Turn It Off
TS May 2020
When the world gets too loud
for you to hear your own thoughts,
  turn it off.

When the violence grows
and the fear bubbles over,
  turn it off.

When the pain of a nation
weighs too heavy on your heart,
  turn it off.

When you have no other option
but to board up your windows,
  turn it off.

When your heart starts to race
at the thought of tomorrow,
  turn it off.

When the words in the air
grow to heavy to bear,
  turn it off.

When your dreams are overtaken
by death and despair,
  turn it off.

When it's too hard to find beauty
in this world anymore,
  turn it off.

When you have no more strength
to hold up your head,
  turn it off.


Closing out the heaviness of the world is not cowardice or ignorance, sometimes it just necessary. Don't judge others or feel fear about giving yourself time.



-t.s.
Mar 2020 · 615
Mentally Medieval
TS Mar 2020
Some days I'm the dragon,
Others I'm the knight.
But most days I'm the peasant girl in the darkness searching for light.




-t.s.
Mar 2020 · 381
Childish or Childlike
TS Mar 2020
I'm 25 and my shirt glows in the dark. A skeleton rock on symbol lights up as the world darkens around me. That's always been me though, never growing up fully, and I would never apologize for that result.

Responsibilities ****. Showing up every day only to do it all again tomorrow can get pretty **** tedious and is constantly boring. But when we find the little things that bring light to the darkness, who are we to turn them away. Of course we can't always have the light because we wouldn't appreciate it nearly as much. Sure, we will have those things that take up space, the things that we have to do in order to live, but that is not our definition. Our dreams perpetually change - we have no definition. Our best bet in this world is to find those things that bring light and hold on to them.

So wear that glow in the dark t-shirt, wear those dinosaur footy pajamas, jump in puddles, watch cartoons, eat sweet cereals, draw horribly, sing innocently, get excited about the little things. Because life isn't one whole big thing - it's made up of millions of smaller pieces - collect the good ones.



-t.s.
TS Mar 2020
My feet feel the cool touch of the grass as I tip toe across the lawn. These long summer nights hold such a blissful innocence about them. Even in growing up, working at a desk job, and paying all the bills, I still feel like a kid when I am surrounded by fireflies in the cool, refreshing twilight air of a Wednesday night in June.

On my checkered blanket, the wind rustles the grass around me and each blade begins to dance to a song you can hear if you are quiet enough...

Distant wind chimes ringing, the breeze rustling the branches, the cicadas chip both near and far, a frog family croaks from the creek near by. There are few moments in this world where peace can wash over someone. In this moment, on the ground, in my PJs, I, a 20 something tired warrior, shine my flashlight toward the sky above in awe so that I may add my light to the infinate chorus above.

The serene nights of summer take me back to a time much simpler. A time when our only worries were 'can we get all of our adventures done in the time before we have to go to sleep?'. A time I go back to every June, just to feel that closeness, that humanity that I so crave. We are more than this zombie-like figure that takes over our bodies each day. We are creative and imaginative. We are fun loving and kind. We are children at heart and we need to stop depriving that child of the happier things in life.




-t.s.
Mar 2020 · 200
The Age
TS Mar 2020
This is the age.


The age of standing up for yourself no matter what knocks you down.

The age of being a warrior through and through but also knowing it's okay to break down some times.

The age of knowing your worth and accepting nothing less.

The age of power among women, lifting each other up instead of ruthlessly tearing each other down.


There is no sense in stepping on your fellow woman as she is up against the same enemy you are. You know that saying, "the enemy of my enemy is my friend"? Well, let's put that into practice. Let's stand hand in hand with the women beside us because we cannot and will not be trampled. We have strength, worth, intellect, and kindness - the most lethal combination. Don't prove to others that you are powerful, you don't need their validation. Instead constantly show it to yourself. Emulate that bravery and despite what others believe, you will topple even the tallest mountains.


This is the age.

The age of women.





-t.s.
TS Feb 2020
Trigger warning : aggressive ****** encounters, ****, violence

Walking down an empty street in London, I‌ was drawn to a crumbling, empty church. It's as if ‘decay’ was written on the walls. A sight unseen, I‌ just had to explore. It looks as though no one has been there for years, decades, or maybe even centuries. Wooden trim adorned the boarded up windows and an altar like a hidden stage lay in the very front. Layers of dust coated the floor. Two balconies towered over either side of the altar and what was left of the chairs sat facing the front of the church. The room was almost a half circle, drawing the attention to the front altar. The ceilings seemed to rise for miles and the windows cast haunted shadows on the floor. Everything is dingy and dull in color, as if it was a forgotten coloring book page that has faded overtime. As I tiptoed across the floor, I inspected each little thing almost in search of a lost treasure.

The energy is strange, almost as if it had been frozen in a paradox of time. Everything was left as if they fled in a hurry, untouched by the passing of years. What was it about this place that I was drawn to? What community used to worship here? What happened to them that left this church in this state. I‌ wasn’t sure I would find out the answer to any of these questions until I‌ spotted a dusty old book on a table by the door. Inside was a language I‌ did not know and notes scrawled on the page margins in pencil. “Gratias agimus tibi propter Princeps tenebris, princeps infernum.” it read. Was this latin? That might make sense as many of the Christian religions’ texts derived from the latin language. Since google is a thing now and we have an infinite access to so much information, I decided to give it a go.

‘We worship thee prince of the darkness, ruler of hell.’

I don’t think this was a Christian church…

As I‌ read these words aloud, a whisper seemed to escape from the walls around me. Carefully, I continued to explore, making sure to not disturb anything. Toward the back of the room was a wall trimmed in wainscoting dusted in a faded brown stain. A large hole was torn through a space on the bottom and a faint light flickered from inside. Was I not the only one here?

Next thing I‌ knew, I‌ was on my hands and knees, crawling through this hole. Why am I not able to control myself? I‌ should have left the instant I‌ read the inscription.‌ Something tells me that someone wants me to be here. Through cobwebs and rodent dung, I‌ reached an opening and stood up. It was a room with dirt walls and floor. There was a single oil lamp lit on a desk across the room. The furniture was skewed about and a questionable, almost luminescent red powder on the floor across the room. When I‌ got closer, I‌ also noticed the shards of glass spread on the ground around the powder. I reached down to touch the powder. I‌n the blink of an eye, I‌ was across the room, wondering what had happened. Before I‌ could even form a full thought, there was movement from the hole in the wall I‌ had just climbed through. A‌ little boy appeared, no older than 8, dressed in ***** wool trousers and a half tucked in, stained linen shirt. He wore a newsboy hat on his head that had certainly seen better days. On his shoulder was a worn bag which looked to be carrying something heavy.

“Hi there. My name is Anna. Are you lost?”

He walked by me as if I‌ were a ghost.

He was looking around, almost searching for something.

“Wh-what are you looking for?”

He made his way to the desk in the corner with the oil lamp and laid his bag down on the chair. He looked under and around with a near disappointed look. What was he trying to find? His eyes suddenly widened and he darted toward a nearby bookshelf, pulling down a crystal decanter from the top shelf. It was full of that same ghastly powder I saw before!‌ I‌ turned to look at that spot on the floor, only to find it clear and no broken glass scattered. To my surprise, the decanter came hurdling across the room, right passed my head, and smashed into the wall. I‌ turn quickly to see the little boy and he was gone. I blink and again am across the room where I‌ was before. I‌ shake my head and rub my eyes. What just happened? I‌ should really get out of here - I don’t think its safe to be here.

I‌ turned to leave but caught a glimpse of the little boy’s bag on the chair. Why was this still here? Why wouldn’t he take it with him? I‌ had to see what was inside. I picked up the bag and pulled each item out; a rock-hard loaf of bread nearly mummified, a small black book on elementary mathematics, a very old key, and sort of spherical item wrapped in a brown cloth.

I‌ removed the cloth to reveal a black clouded crystal ball. As soon as my hands touched its surface, I blinked and I‌ was out in the main room of the church with at least 30 people lingering around their chairs talking. I was no longer holding the ball, and everything had a bit brighter of a color to it. The room was still dark but the windows were not boarded up. There still lie some rubble on the ground but much less than before.

“Uhm, hello? Who are you? What is happening?”

I reached out to one of the people and they said nothing - they didn’t even acknowledge my existence. Everyone was dressed in very old clothing. Corsets, bustles, and shiny leather shoes. It was as if I stepped into a chapter of a victorian era book.
Despite the demeanor of the patrons, their clothes were still a little worn, torn, *****, and drab. Everyone carried on their conversations in a reasonable tone until a bell rang - everyone found a seat.

A lanky gentleman appeared at the altar in black clothing and spoke to the crowd.

“My fellow followers of Lucifer, I‌ beseech thee to bow down in worship to our almighty prince. He hath lead us to the depths of the fire and bestowed on us the power to destroy life itself.”

Each person knelt down and faced the ground in what I‌ would assume is reverence.

“For over a thousand years, this temple has held a dark mass for our dark lord, in which we show our dedication to his unholiness in the form of a sacrifice. Who among you has brought a gift to Satan himself?”

A petite, young, beautiful woman rose and approached the altar. Her head bowed in reverence and a veil over her head, she held out her arms. The man took a small item wrapped in a brown cloth from her and set it on the altar. They continued their ritual by spreading what I imagine was blood along the edge of the altar in a circle. As the man worked, the crowd of people mumbled in unison like a prayer. I watched from the side, trying to understand why I‌ was here and why no one would speak with me.

“Ma’am, what is this place?” I‌ asked a nearby worshiper. She said nothing.
“Excuse me,” I‌ nudge a young man to her left, “what is everyone doing?” He did not even look at me.

The mass continued in latin and I‌ watched quietly in confusion.

Nearly an hour passed and the mass seemed over. The people start chatting away as they had before and the gentleman at the front makes his way to the back wall where the hole was before. The young woman stopped him and asked to speak. I follow them to the back of the church. The gentleman quietly opens a door hidden in the wall right where the hole was and they walk in. I sneak in with them as the gentleman closes the door.

“Elizabeth, I am glad you came today. I was starting to worry that your faith was wavering. You haven’t seemed yourself lately since that human left.” the gentleman addressed the young woman as she sat in the chair by the desk. Everything was neater now and the furniture was placed in a purposeful way, much like a room in a house.

“Jonathan was the love of my life, Cain. I miss him every day. I don’t wish to go on in this world any longer.” Elizabeth squawked back with tears in her eyes.

Cain goes to comfort her, sits with her, and holds her in his arms as she sobs gently. He offers her his handkerchief and she accepts gracefully.
“Darling, you have so much more to give here. Lucifer needs your fortitude and dedication. But most of all, I need you.” He says, wiping a tear from her cheek.

As she rests her head on his shoulder, I look around the room. The powder is no longer on the floor and the decanter is on the table. I turn my attention back to the couple and I‌ see him kiss her softly. She turns away,
“Cain, please…” she whimpers, “I am not ready for this yet.” Cain nods and stands up. He walks across the room to a metal bowl with a pitcher and pours a glass of water.

“You should leave, Elizabeth.” he states without making eye contact. “You have no business being here if you will continue to cohort with humans. You have been given a dark gift that you are wasting away. You have been made beautiful to be a glorious gift to our community and you have disgraced us by your unfaithfulness.”

Shocked, Elizabeth stands and walks toward him with more tears in her eyes, “Cain, you know I‌ love you. I‌ want to stay with the community, to contribute and prove my worth. Please give me a chance.” she sobs.

He takes her in his arms and calmly says, “Elizabeth, you know what you must do. You know your purpose. You are the source of intimacy in this coven. You are our only hope to offer what we have to Lucifer.”

Elizabeth sighs and softly agrees. She looks defeated, tired, sad. I just want to wrap my arms around her and tell her it will be okay. I‌ blink back tears from my eyes. As I open them, I‌ am back in the main room surrounded by people. Cain is standing at the altar beside Elizabeth who is dressed in a beautiful black lace gown and veil. Cain lifts the veil from her face and kisses her neck. Her expression unchanged, still flooded with defeat. Cain starts to unbutton her gown. What is happening? Why are all these people watching this? She doesn’t look happy… why is no one stopping this? Cain starts to aggressively remove her clothing until she is standing bare and vulnerable in front of the crowd.

“What are you doing?!” I‌ scream.
“Leave her alone!” I‌ run to the front to try and stop them but I‌ am invisible.

As Cain removes his trousers, Elizabeth stands there calmly but with deep sadness in her eyes. He motions to the altar and Elizabeth lays down. Cain climbs on top of her and starts to penetrate. He begins aggressively … well there is no other word for it besides ****. He is ****** her. Her eyes fill with tears but she blinks them back. He gains speed until he finally ******* inside her. She blankly stares at the ceiling and a single tear rolls down the side of her face, landing in her now unkempt hair.
Why? Why did this happen? What is going on? Why did no one stop this?
A man in the crowd stands up and walks to the front. When he reaches the altar, he begins to undress.

No.

Not again. There is no way. Why would they be doing this? Why is no one stopping this?!

Man after man after man violates Elizabeth while she lays silently on the stone altar. I am sobbing now. Why am I‌ powerless? Why can’t I‌ stop this? Why is this happening?

What seems like hours pass of this horror and Elizabeth finally stands up. She puts her gown back on and replaces her veil. Cain stands beside her and grabs her hand. He recites something in latin then repeats in English, “The marriage of the many.” They begin a ceremony similar to a wedding but instead of a groom, on the altar lies the decanter of powder.
The ceremony continues and I can hear Elizabeth faintly sobbing, “Jonathan…” she whispers. She blinks back her tears and looks up. She sees him standing by the door, tears off her veil and runs to him. He was not there. Men from the crowd drag her back to the altar. She is screaming, “I‌ won’t marry him! Jonathan has my heart. I‌ would rather die than give myself over to Lucifer!” Cain hits her across the face leaving a throbbing red mark.

She cradles her face from the pain as Cain yells,
“Don’t you dare disgrace us! You are the ultimate sacrifice to our king and you must obey!”

Cain drags her back to the altar and chains her down. He pulls a knife from his belt and lifts it in the air yelling, “To thee I‌ offer, oh king of hell, this sacrifice of violated innocence. Come forth and bestow your gifts upon us as we offer her to you.” I‌ lunge forward to try and stop him. Just as he is about to plunge the knife in her chest, the decanter on the altar opens and the powder bursts into the air. A loud voice bellows through the church,

“You dare disgrace this innocence. An offer of such little worth hath no result for a coven such as yours.” A strong gust of wind throws Cain against the wall. The blow kills him instantly. The crowd bursts into chaos. Elizabeth, still chained to the altar, is hysterically sobbing and trying to break free. From the cloud of wind, a man walks toward her. He is tall with dark features. He has deep black eyes and a chiseled jaw line and body. He walks to her. Elizabeth looks up and is speechless. The man crouches down to unchain her and kindly helps her up.
“They hath defiled you, oh innocence. For this they shall burn.” He speaks in a deep voice. He extends his hand and half of the crowd turns to ash. He looks into her eyes and kisses her neck.

Elizabeth looks to the ceiling with tears in her eyes and mutters, “Please don’t hurt me…”
“Why would I hurt the most purest gifts my father has given the world?” He says as he holds her face. “I have removed the human from your life to clear your path to glory. In my father’s spite, we will be betrothed tonight. You shall rule hell beside me and bear my children.”
She sobs, “You … you killed him? I loved him!”
“Girl, you know nothing of love.” He says flatly. She looks at him in surprise, tears still falling down her cheeks. Chaos is still roaring around them as the crowd tried to escape the hellfire. “These filthy creatures are not worthy of your power. You belong to me now.” She tries to break free of his grip but he is far too strong for her. He lifts her up and lays her on the altar and begins to overtake her as she cries.
I stand to the side helplessly. Sobbing with her. I close my eyes and wish it over. I‌ want to leave now. I can’t take this.
Silence. I open my eyes to the sudden stillness and there sits a pregnant Elizabeth in a dark, empty church. Tears are gently running down her face and I realize that I‌ have not yet seen her with a smile on her face. Lucifer appears to her and holds her in his arms. I can’t hear anything. They are speaking but there is no sound. He lays her down and she yells - she is in labor. A small bundle wrapped in a cloth is delivered and the dark lord holds it in his hands and looks down calmly. Elizabeth stands up behind him with anger in her eyes. She pulls a knife from her cloak and plunges it in his neck. He drops the child but Elizabeth reaches to catch it just in time. She runs to the door with the cloth in her arms and slams the door behind her. A furious Satan rips the knife from his neck and runs to the door. He slams on it with his fists and yells. I‌ still cannot hear.
I blink and see Elizabeth on the steps of a church, crying softly. She gently lays the bundle on the door step and runs away. A woman appears at the door and picks it up, cradling it in her arms.
I‌ blink and see Elizabeth back in the church, holding the decanter and stealthy creeping around the corners. She turns around and Lucifer is standing there.
“You have betrayed me. All freedoms have been stripped from you. You will no longer sit beside me and rule hell. You will be caged and retained for only reproduction. You WILL bear my children and I‌ shall take them from you, never to be seen again. This will continue until I‌ have used the last of you and then you will be destroyed.” He exclaims angrily.
Elizabeth stands straight up, holds the decanter in her hand and yells, “I‌ banish thee, Satan, to the confines of this prison. You shall never again walk the face of this earth.”‌ As she opens the lid, the dark lord plunges the knife she used on him into her chest. A gust of wind engulfs him into the decanter. Elizabeth drops to the floor. A‌ knife in her chest, she struggles to put the top on the decanter. She crawls to the wall where the door once was. She begins to peel away the pieces of the wall weakly. She works in pain for what seems like hours until she makes it into the room. She drags herself over to the bookshelf and hoists herself up. She places the decanter up as far up as she can and tries to cover it with a cloth. As she reaches, she falls. Upon hitting the ground, she fades into dust.
I‌ stood there silently, shocked. This woman. I feel like I‌ know her. She is so strong and brave. I‌ am in awe and also in tears. I‌ collapse to the ground in the dust she left behind. I‌ mourn her, her hardships, her life. She deserved so much more.
I open my eyes and I‌ see a little girl, maybe 5 or 6 years old enter the room. She looks around. I yell, “Leave!‌ This place is dangerous!‌”
Bewildered by the things around her, she wanders to the bookshelf. She looks so much like Elizabeth. Could this be? Could it be her daughter? She is holding a small bag. She sits down at the desk and opens it. Its her lunch. She begins to eat and continue looking around. She sees the light from the oil lamp gleam off the crystal decanter. Excited, she pushes the chair up against the bookcase and climbs up. On her tippy toes, she manages to reach the decanter. She sits back down and twirls it around, moving the powder from one side to the other. A small amount of powder escapes in a puff. You can hear a whisper, “Victoria…” I‌ hear. She hears it too.
“Hello? Who’s there?” she squeaks. She puts the decanter down and walks around. She turns around to return to her lunch and is greeted by Lucifer himself, though she doesn’t know this. He is weak. The remainder of his strength lies in the decanter. He can’t speak. He grabs her and yells - she screams and breaks away from his grasp. She takes off in the other direction and crawls back through the hole. She looks behind her then darts toward the door. He is standing there in front of the door. He waves his hand and the large metal door bolts shut. She stops dead in her tracks, stares at him for a moment, then takes off.
Frantically running through the church, Victoria is trying to find any means of escape. Tears in her eyes, she evades Lucifer’s grasp several times. The windows are boarded up, the doors are bolted, and it seems there is no way out. Suddenly a little gleam of light comes from above. The balcony. She starts toward the wall and begins to climb up the trim as quickly as she can. Lucifer is close behind, yelling but unable to speak words to her. She reaches for the balcony and pulls herself up.
Suddenly I‌ am outside on the balcony and Victoria is reaching for the railing. She is reaching for the light. She is reaching for me. She looks into my eyes and yells, “Help me! Please!” and extends her hand. Surprised that she can see me, I reach out to grasp her hand but before I‌ can get her, she is pulled screaming back into the church. I‌ lunge forward to pull her back but land on the floor of the back hidden room breathing heavily. I stand up and dust myself off. I am in the middle of the powder and glass that was on the floor. I grab the book I‌ found and start to run for the door. I‌ can’t get caught by him, he will **** me. A thousand things are running through my mind. I crawl through the hole and head toward the door. Something compels me to look back as I pull open the door.
There he stood.
Staring at me.
“Daughter, fear not. I will find you and we will rule together with your sister.” He says.
Daughter? Sister? Who am I?
Trigger warning : aggressive ****** encounter, ****, violence
Jan 2020 · 314
Brave New Day
TS Jan 2020
Hey there - sleepy head,

Today is a brand new day. You are going to face a countless number things, people, and words today, good and bad. The main thing I want you to remember when you face this day is that you are so incredibly brave. You are fearless in the face of despair and rejoyce with passion at the sound of a good song. You have all the potential of a great day locked inside you, all you need to do is find the key. Be patient with yourself and remind yourself of the little happy things in life - nothing too small. Romanticize this world and everything in it because you only get this one life, lets make it a glorious one.

Love,
You

PS- You can do this. Walk into that building with grace and peace. Let your inner ocean be calmed by the tranquility of the breeze. Yes, you are a hurricane of a girl but only YOU get to decide when to storm.



-t.s.
Dec 2019 · 502
Song of the Sleep
TS Dec 2019
Lay on your hand 'til it falls asleep so when you strum your guitar it's a stranger's melody.




-t.s.
Dec 2019 · 332
The Void
TS Dec 2019
Have I breathed life into the empty void around me or have I wasted precious air to a suffocating silence?




-t.s.
Nov 2019 · 298
Flame
TS Nov 2019
Ashes rise to the sky
Like fireflies
Reach a height then disappear
Such a short, bright life.


-t.s.
Nov 2019 · 233
Letter From Heaven
TS Nov 2019
T,

I won't be there in life for all the moments where you might need my advice so here are all the words of wisdom you might need.

1. Don't settle for less than you deserve - there are only a certain number of days you have on this Earth, don't waste them with things that make you feel half full.

2. Find the little moments and celebrate them, don't wait for the big things to enjoy life because every sucess, every joyful moment is worth celebrating.

3. Be patient and open your eyes to see God work in your life. Not everything will happen at the speed you want it to but if you calm your mind and heart, the period in-between great changes will be one of reflection and peace rather than unsteady nervousness.

4. Give your heart space to heal and room to grow. You will have many things in life that touch your heart, good and bad. Give them time to make their mark, learn from them and don't forget the lessons.

5. You will walk around this life as a whole person with spaces to fill. Someone will come along and fit right in those spaces, keep your eyes and heart open to recognize them and let them fill you up with love, acceptance, and joy. But don't forget that you are whole without them, too. You do not need someone to 'complete' you because you are whole all on your own.

6. Go out into the world and experience life before it's gone. Love greatly, pray deeply, give endless, and know that you are special and worth more than than all the riches in the world.

7. Remember those who love you that have gone before you and know that we are watching over you, smiling wide at all your success and crying with you on the hard days. We hope you live a full life but also can't wait to see you when we meet again one day in heaven.

Love, Tom
Nov 2019 · 824
Corporation
TS Nov 2019
You built me a casket that was too small and expected I would accept it quietly.




-t.s.
Nov 2019 · 511
Symphony Storm
TS Nov 2019
The wind plays a symphony that only the silent can hear.
Close your eyes, put your mind at peace, and open you heart to the sound.
Let the breeze fill your lungs and lift you higher.
Hear the rustle of the leaves high above and the gusts whistling a tune.
Windchimes add percussion while the hum of the earth beneath your feet casts a steady beating of your heart.
Breathe in, breathe out becomes the harmony.
And the wind roars the melody.
You are the conductor, the one in control.
You guide the song through its journey and take a victorious bow.
And when you stand and look out again and wonder why it has to go,
Remember that there will always been another symphony storm



-t.s.
Nov 2019 · 515
Windy Moods
TS Nov 2019
Starry sky, crickets chirp, wind skips lightly across my skin
I whisper,
I am peaceful, my love.

Sun beams pierce the windshield, my hair floats recklessly from the open window, music playing,
I sing
I am carefree, my love.

A light drizzle with a light rustle in the trees, grey sky, puddles under foot
I mutter
I am lonely, my love.

Sharp cold air scratched against my face, snow like glass, shiver in my bones,
I Bellow
I am angry, my love.

Chaotic gusts like trains rushing by, thunder crashes, the sky groans in angst
I cry
I am in pain, my love.

The breeze softens and floats with the rain, eerie stillness, the world is quiet once more,
I gasp
I am exhausted, my love.

My moods are like the wind. Ever changing, ever growing, and forever calling your name.




-t.s.
Nov 2019 · 262
Chaos
TS Nov 2019
The sun rises as do my eyes to greet the view.
I have traveled far and often to be right here next to you.

I am mesmerized with a heart so still.
Inside I am empty, searching for the will.

Wonder which vacant street will find the beat of my aching heart,
Hoping for an answer, direction, or even just a start.

Letting go is never easy even when you have the space,
Growing to which I am unsure but I long to see its face.

The look of darkness, the smoke fills my lungs
I know the waking nightmare has just begun.

Do not blind me with your beauty, I will never be impressed.
Instead be honest, whole, and true, a fate I will caress.

I live with you for my whole life, and feel my heartbeat start
No matter how I try to flee, we shall never drift apart.




-t.s.
Sep 2019 · 301
Drama Queen
TS Sep 2019
I feel things fiercely. A whole new level of pain, sadness, and very occasionally joy. When my heart breaks, it falls from the top of a mountain to the deepest abyss of the earth. When I am hurt, I feel the pain of ten-thousand thorns piercing through my skin, a hundred poisonous snake bites, and 24 years of self deprecating thoughts all stirred into a single tear. Some might call it dramatic, but if they knew the impact it had on my thoughts, my smile,my whole life , they would eat those words as fast as they spit them out.

She's just being dramatic.

She's just too extreme.

She doesn't have control of her emotions.

You make it sound like I chose this, like I continue to choose this. When something "small" happens, like a friend not turning out to who you thought they were, or a moment not living up to its expectations, my whole world quakes. I cannot help it. I can't fix it. I didn't pick this. I didn't want to feel so impacted by the smallest movement. This is the way I was created and believe me, I am trying so hard to fix it - more than I could ever explain. The process of caring enough to fight instead of ending my life is something that might come easy for you, but takes a lot of convincing for me. Please try to understand. And if you don't, that's okay. I don't want to be here anyway.



-t.s.
Sep 2019 · 277
Defining Wander
TS Sep 2019
Wanderlust is such a romanticized term. It has such a beautiful air of brilliance. A word associated with travel and experiencing the best of life. What they don't tell you is the heavy side. The side where you can travel the whole world and still feel nothing. The part that feels aimless and empty. The dizzying feeling of dread that nothing will ever be good enough. If I can't find joy eating cacio e pepe in the heart of Rome, or exploring castles in Scotland, will I ever find joy? It makes you wonder why we wander when nothing seems to fill that hollowness in your heart. Not people, places, food, or things - nothing. Not only am I wandering the world but my soul also wanders for a place to rest, a place to call home. Nothing seems to fit. Nothing seems to feel right. Why am I cursed to wander when to most it is a blessing?



-t.s.
Sep 2019 · 385
It Brings Me Back
TS Sep 2019
The light touch of the silk on my breast brings me back to you.

It brings me back to that dance floor with my body pressed up against yours like the cover of a book and it's pages.

It brings me back to your fingertips - a stone skip across my skin.

It brings me back to your hands holding my face and your lips on mine.

It brings me back to that night in the snow where your body was the only source of heat I needed.

You are a chapter that I will never forget - the one that I will reread over and over again until the words come to life off the page.



-t.s.
Sep 2019 · 386
The Noise of Overwhelmed
TS Sep 2019
Do you ever feel so overwhelmed that every nerve in your body tightens? Just so angry and anxious that you want to shake the dirt off of every fiber of your being. Crank up the volume in the car till your eardrums vibrate and only hear one constant, extremely loud noise. Clutch the steering wheel, speeding down the highway, eyes darting to the metal side rail, battling the urge to slam into it and flip your car.

How do I fix this? How do I avoid feeling this way from the beginning? It's the smallest things that set this off and it's absolutely suffocating - like a building on your chest, gasping for air. I think being reckless and overloading the senses helps. Sure it can really hurt you, but in that moment, nothing is okay. I just want it all to shut up - all the thoughts running through my head, all the emotions bubbling up. I just want peace. If that means shaking loose all the parts of my brain and filling that adrenaline by speeding down the highway - then so be it.



-t.s.
Jun 2019 · 292
The moment when it ends...
TS Jun 2019
That split second is when you know the truth -
It's life altering in the most subtle of ways.
Most people wouldn't give a second glance -
But I feel it all and start to count the days.


I can tell from the first thought how this will end -
Whether we fade away or go up in a flame.
The connection comes through like a freight train -
Here's hoping we don't end in the same way that we came.


I've never done things with one foot in and one out -
My style is always being present and driving full force.
I came storming through and you caught up
Now you've decided that's enough and sought another course.


I blame you, really. You saw me coming.
You knew from the beginning all about me.
I've never thrown a smoke screen or hidden my face
I've been an open book, every page turning to see.


Your judgement and cruelty is unmatched -
A deep reminder of how much I openly trust.
It just keeps raining so heavily, down the windows
I sit and stare as the pane begins to rust.


I may never figure this out and truly that's okay -
Knowing everything is overrated anyway.
I do however, know myself and am true to me -
I can call out my mistakes and failings on any single day.


Now I ask you, have you thought about who you are?
Have you considered your role in all this?
You preach 'no judgement' but it's a task you can't seem to fit -
Is there a thing about our friendship that you would even miss?


Look into the mirror and study what you see -
Look at the lines, the freckles, the shadows, and brows.
But look further, past the outer layer that you show the world -
Would you want to be your friend? With all that you are now?


Once you know the answer to these questions -  
And reflect upon what you see -
Remember these moments and how they end
And let that teach you how to be.



-t.s.
Jun 2019 · 352
Daily Questions
TS Jun 2019
5AM : The sky is waking up. I turn over across the blankets and tissues to face the sky. Calming shades of periwinkle and stone swirl out my window. Can I stay like this forever?

6:30AM : Alarm rings - time to get ready. My feet hit the floor reluctantly, but a triumph nonetheless. Vela swishes her tail against my leg and chirps a sweet, 'Good morning!' Can't I just spend the day curled up next to her?

7:30AM : These jeans will work. I've got my purse, don't need a lunch (because honestly I'm looking pudgy lately and I ate way too much last night), and I better get moving or I'll be late. Can't have that or I'll loose my job. Would it really be that bad to not have to work?

7:59AM : Do I have to go in?

8:10AM : I've been here 10 minutes and I already want to stop breathing more than usual. People smile at me and it's sweet but I just feel nothing but heaviness inside. My face feels weighed down by an invisible force and my head is throbbing. How much longer until 5 o'clock?

9AM : I've survived an hour, which to be honest is impressive. Nothing but irritation and eye rolls. Why did I even get out of bed?

11:59AM : Great. Lunchtime. I hope I can just speed by this. I don't want to eat - I feel sick thinking about it. Maybe if I just talk a lot and ask people questions no one will notice that I'm not eating. Who am I kidding, I'll end up finding something to eat anyway - I'm hungry. Why do I have to gain weight from food?

4PM : We're coming up on the finish line. I already know the exact things I will do the moment I walk in my front door - shoes off, bathroom, change into sweats, wash the oils off my face, fill up my water bottle, curl up under the covers, and sleep. Is the day over yet?

5:01PM : Finally. Make a beeline for the car and maybe no one will talk to me - I really just want to go home. I know I was supposed to go to the gym, but honestly I need to be home right now. Is there any traffic on the way back?

5:12PM : Do I have the courage to drive right off this bridge and finally let it be done?

5:25PM : Approaching my home I feel ready, ready to collapse into its embrace. Next I feel a heaviness stronger than this morning, like I'm being pulled toward my bed for comfort. I am so ready to be away from the world. How many more days do I have to do this?

5:27PM: Car doors locked. Walk up to the top floor because I should exercise - after all I skipped the gym. Shoes off. Bathroom. Change into sweats. Wash the oils off my face. Fill up my water bottle. Curl up under the covers. Can't sleep. Tears run down my emotionless face. I just don't want to do it anymore. How much longer do I have to hold out?

6:15PM : Absolute chaotic breakdown. I am a blubbering mess of a human, walking vigorously around my apartment in search of something although I'm not sure what. It's not even a thing I'm looking for, more like relief. Curling up, sobbing beside the couch praying for this to all end. Tortured and ready to die but lack the ability to make it happen. How does anyone love me when I am such a terror?

6:25PM : Exhausted. Finally calming down from a whirlwind of dementors. Still sobbing. Ready to collapse. How much longer can I take this?

6:45PM : The next few hours are just a roller coaster of being silently down and being an emotional ball of fury. It's exhausting. I'm exhausted. I'm ready to be done. How do I make it stop?

9:30 PM : Finally found a little bit of stable comfort in a new strange spot in my apartment. Yesterday it was at the end of the couch, today it's under my craft table. I gather my blankets, tissues, and water bottle to settle down for rest. Why are my mind, body, and soul so restless and depressed?

11:30PM : Still awake with an empty stare on my face. Numb from the stress of the last few hours and going over the events of the day. How many times did I want to die today? A shorter answer to a different question would be - how many times did I want to live today?

1AM : Maybe, just maybe... I won't see the sky wake up and I will finally be at peace. Is it all over yet?
Jun 2019 · 444
Opening Up
TS Jun 2019
I have an intensly difficult time opening up to anyone. I have been burned so many times, yes, but this isn't about that.

It's about the way you will look at me when I tell you how my mood swings from happily eating ice cream for dinner to throwing out all the food in my house because I should stop eating forever.

It's about the things you will say when I tell you I want to drive my car off a bridge the day after we had a grand time at happy hour.

It's about the energy I will feel when I explain why I don't let myself get too happy anymore because I am afraid that will be it for me - the best memory I will ever have.

It's about the people you will call and the places you will put me when I finally say how I feel about my life and my desire for it to end.

It's all about what I know will happen.

This is why I stay quiet and I cry alone in my bed. This is why I put a smile on each day and break down as soon as I step through my front door. This is why I will never tell you how I feel because I know the moment I do, life will never be the same for us again.

In all reality, everything I do is to protect the ones I love. I stay alive because I couldn't bear to put anyone through the hassle of dealing with my dead body. I keep quiet because I can't burden you with my words. I cover it all up, keep it shoved down deep because I will never open up this storm of emotion to a person who lives life in such an unapologetically perfect way.

I am here because of you. I am still breathing because of you. But I am still hoping that one day, unprompted, you give me permission to leave. THAT is when I will breath a sigh of relief.


-t.s.
Jun 2019 · 2.7k
You Don't Know What's Best
TS Jun 2019
No one will truly listen... Everything I want to say or feel out loud will get me locked up in an institution. It's unfair. I can't speak without fear of someone deciding for me that I should be locked up. Don't tell me you know better than me and don't ******* tell me that you know what's best for me. You aren't in charge, you don't get to decide. If that means I have to be suicidal in secret then so ******* be it.


-t.s.
May 2019 · 682
They're Just Words
TS May 2019
It's all just words.

I don't really have anything profoundly intricate to say - everything I write is just a stream of consciousness jotted down on a note in my phone that I load to a website anonymously hoping someone, somewhere will see it and feel something.



-t.s.
May 2019 · 849
The Storm : A Masterpiece
TS May 2019
There's an odd sense of peace that lies beneath the surface of a storm, just waiting to be uncovered.

One may be tempted to just look at the chaos and noise and deem it malicious; but if you take a moment to truly uncover it's emotion, the way you look at storms will change forever:

Some may feel high winds, but instead try to feel the rush of energy past your ears, through your hair, and across your skin.

Some may cover from the heavy rain, but instead try running through it, letting it wash over you like cleansing waters.

Some may fear the booming thunder, but instead try to let the vibration course through your veins shaking loose the dust off your passion.

Some may shield their eyes from the blinding lightening, but instead try to trace it's every path across the night sky like a one-of-a-kind, split-second painting that only you have seen.

Some may be working on repairing the aftermath, but instead try to stop and take it all in for a silent moment, as the Earth has just screamed at the top of her lungs and created a masterpiece and you did not hide your face, cover your ears, or shield your head - instead you looked to the sky and breathed it all in; the beauty, the music, the shower of life. You have chosen to see the world as a work of art, even for just a moment - and the Earth smiles because she knows.




-t.s.
May 2019 · 357
Is it worth it?
TS May 2019
This world is full of people who will hate you, drag you down, and rub dirt in your wounds. There are also many who will show you love and kindness.

I ask you, is it worth it? Is it worth it to go to bed every night hoping you don't wake up in the morning just to have a friend?

Is it worth it to feel the overwhelming urge to jump when you know the bottom is full of sharp rocks just to have a few happy photos?

Is it worth it to loathe your existence so much that you wish you would just stop breathing already just to take in the cool air that escapes from a crashing wave?

Is it worth it?


- t.s.
Mar 2019 · 540
Alone
TS Mar 2019
I feel you slipping.

Slipping away.



This wouldn't be news to me - another person who goes. I don't blame you really. I'm sure I'm not the best to live with. Always a wild card of emotion. To be fair, I don't even know most times. I was doing well - I am medicated and things are relatively okay. But this sadness just washed over me like a wave - overwhelmed, drenched, depressed.

It is all senses of frustration rolled into one.

I know it's only a matter of time before you leave completely so why delay the inevitable. Just go. Leave. Don't look back and don't pretend to be sorry. I should be alone and I should go far away. Every city is tainted now - smudged with haunting memories.


I don't belong anywhere, so nowhere is where I'll be.



-t.s.
Mar 2019 · 465
Hanging
TS Mar 2019
Some days I dream of the way my feet would hang off the side of a roof top garden ledge
Crisp air cooling my toes.


Some days I wish I was hanging from a tree
Lifeless, still, and calm.


Some days I wish I was at least just hanging in there,
Instead of feeling empty and numb.



-t.s.
Jan 2019 · 1.1k
Tourist
TS Jan 2019
Let's just all stop judging each other okay?

I have a new challenge for you:

to amend your attitude, to not put others down for the things that erupt passion in their hearts.

When did it become the cool thing to look down on others because they show excitement for something?

I was recently thinking about the term 'tourist'. That word used to make me cringe. I hated the idea of being a tourist because I hated the idea of being the outsider, the person who isn't "from around here". In reality, however, we are all tourists. We can't be from everywhere and often times I still consider myself a tourist in my own town. I feel like "being a tourist" has gotten such a bad wrap. Often times the term is synonymous with "annoying" and "main-stream". I've heard people say, "Be a traveler, not a tourist." And I say, aren't they the same thing? Aren't they both people who are passionate about exploring somewhere  new? People spend so much time gawking at the tourists that kiss in front of the Eiffel tower or take photos in front of the Coliseum. How unfair is it for us to judge them for that? They are documenting a memory, their memory. They are fully immersed in the now. They are enjoying every last drop of everywhere they go.

It's disappointing to see so many people look down on others for the way they show their excitement and passion simply because it doesn't look like theirs. Just because you don't show your joy by taking a tour through the Louvre doesn't mean it's wrong. Sure, hidden gems of cities can always be cool and unique but that's not the only way to experience the world. Attractions are popular because they hold a value to so many people - if anything, that just makes it that much more worth it.

I myself, am more along the lines of getting off the beaten path and forging my own - but still floating back to earth a bit to see the views everyone's talking about. I know everyone travels differently and people are interested in other things - that's okay. That's what brings diversity and personality to the world. I'm not saying you need to conform and do what everyone else is doing, I'm just saying - don't judge others for how they choose to spend this life - but also, don't be afraid to spend yours how you want. Don't shy away from visiting Neuschwannstein Castle just because everyone goes there. Who cares how it looks to others? Only you. If we all spent a little less time judging others, maybe that would leave a little more time for enjoying the life we are in. You never know what is going to happen a week from now, a month from now, or years from now - so go do what excites your spirit - no matter how many or how little people do the same thing. Just go, explore the world, and be unapologetically you.
Oct 2018 · 511
This is for You
TS Oct 2018
It's when tragedy hits that we feel the smallest.

I feel like I can't help, like no matter what I do, I won't make a difference to the cause.

You're resilience and strength has inspired me the years that I have had the pleasure to know you. And now... Now there is this plague that is draining you and I can't change it or help it.

Your family has fought so many battles already. I have never met such a strong bunch. And yet, here they are, having to tackle ALS too.

Such a difficult thing. Something that has no cure or fix or remedy.

That's the funny thing about humans. We don't realize what it's like to not have control until we don't. How incredibly painful it must be to look at your hands, wanting to move them and nothing happens.

I put myself in your place, in your shoes and I am just a rock at the deepest darkest corner of the ocean, covered in algae and sand.

I am motionless.

Much like you will be for the rest of your life, however long we get to have you for.

I am flooded with the emotions and heart break. We have no control. We have no cure. We have no hope.

I want to muster all the hope and prayers I possibly can but I am just struck by the heart ache. I am weighed down by the thought of a world without you. I am scattered and crushed.

This entire time I have been saying nothing but "I" statements and how I feel and how I am. But this isn't about me and how heart broken I am... It's about you

The you who has been a pillar of love and strength to his family

The you who held his wife's hand as she battled cancer

The you who celebrated gleefully the 10 year anniversary of her remission

The you who lost loved ones to other dreadful diseases

The you who donated his time to the arts and the education system

The you who showed people how to think creatively

The you who raised three beautiful children

The you whose daughter is getting married this year

The you who won't be able to walk her down the aisle

The you gave and gave and gave until you actually couldn't walk anymore

This is all about you. The love that is being shown is to you. The tears that are being shed are for you. The hearts that are breaking, break for you. The minds kept up late at night writing frantically to ease the fears are for you. You are the center of this, our one priority.

Please, please let the prayers being poured out for you right now bring healing, bring peace and bring a miracle to you.

Life would not be the same without you and you need to know that.
TS Sep 2018
Sometimes I look back on this life I lived. And it fills me with tears. Nostalgia is a tricky little minx. Sneaks up when you are least expecting it. Filling you with fondness that quickly turns to pain.

I'm longing for the nights we stayed up late like kids in pillow forts. The days we danced in the sun on the street. The moments we wished to last forever.

They didn't.

We didn't.

Suddenly I feel heavy and empty at the same time. Like something inside me is missing and it's absence is a weight on my chest. I dare not say I miss you or miss us or miss the memories because that's the whole key of missing something. You can't miss something that isn't gone. And to be honest, all we had left was to leave each other. That is the reason a part of you will still live on in my soul and I yours. A part of you and me that no longer exists. A part we burried long ago. And that's for the best. It was over. We had outgrown the world that we had created. We became too headstrong, too brave, too focused to live on in each other's lives.

Two hurricanes cannot rage beside each other without merging together as one. Our hurricane lives, independent and stubborn, battled too close to that edge and that is our greatest downfall.

So, storm on, you hurricane of a girl. May your path bring both beauty and destruction all in one. May your bravery startle even yourself. May you power grow and your soul deepen. And may your eyes open each day to see how incredibly and how magnificently you live this life.




-t.s.
Aug 2018 · 562
Perfect Imperfections
TS Aug 2018
I come home alone yet again.

I tell myself time and time again that I do not need somebody to complete me - that I am perfect all on my own.

That doesn't mean I don't want to curl up next to someone at the end of the day and melt in their arms - to feel the safety net, the warmth and pure love of companionship.

Just like anybody else, I want that kind of love.

Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have been so selective. Maybe if I would have just "gotten used to his flaws" or "moved past his agressive tendencies" I would be in bed right next to you.

I know I deserve greatness. I am told this time and time again, so much so that I almost believe it.

But you know what my greatness is? It's being independent, strong, and brilliant while still knowing I can depend on someone. It's being brave, kind, and fearless while still knowing that someone will always be there to have my back. It's having faith, caring for others, and demanding nothing but the best and having the one who matters the most show me that even imperfections are perfect.

I want an ambitious love. One that shows the movies how to be. One that gives a new name to inseparable. I know it's a lot to ask for - which is why I am still alone. Maybe I ask too much or maybe too many people fall short of greatness in my eyes.

I demand nothing but the most perfect imperfections.
Feb 2018 · 364
What I Want
TS Feb 2018
I want to write to inspire you, to show you, to lead you.

I want my words to take you to new continents and sail you across seas.

I want my imagery to paint such a masterpiece, you could reach out and feel the wind.

I want to keep you captivated by these letters in a combination no one has dared to try.

I want my poems, my stories, my thoughts, my dreams to be the ones you copy and paste, the ones you print and hang on your wall; not for fame and money but so that you see it every day and you are reminded that you are alive.

I want to show you how to smile again, how to face each day.

I want these lines to hold on to you, keep your tears from falling or help you let it all out.

I want my sentences to teach you how to love yourself again, how to be brave.

I want you to know, from my words, that there is nothing on this earth, in the entire complex universe, this endless sky of galaxies, that you can't be.


- t.s.
Jan 2018 · 718
Don't Make Me Wake Up
TS Jan 2018
The candle wax is dripping on the floor. I'm fast asleep on the hardwood, a towel for a blanket, wandering the stories my mind creates.

It's so much better there, in my dreams, much more comforting and whimsical. I can create my safest place, my very own home.

I can wander all over the world for free, touch the greatest wonders and experience culture like no other. I can learn anything without paying a dime or sitting in a classroom. I can feel the warmth of the sun on my skin or the cool rain kiss my cheeks as I look to the sky. I can be anything, dare I even say ... happy.

I am trapped in a magical world and I never want to leave.

Please don't make me leave.

I don't want to wake up. I don't want to face the dark and the cold. Because when I wake, those candles will be out and my towel will be just a towel.

Here I am warm, I am free, I am strong. Here I can be anything, do anything, feel anything.

Please don't make me wake up.

Please.

- t.s.
Jan 2018 · 899
The Color of You
TS Jan 2018
You are the color of a kiss,
passionate and complex;
A cold, tall glass of water
just after you've had ***

You are the color of a road trip,
with windows down and sunnies on.
The color of a love ballad,
or a fulfilling and perfect yawn

You are the color of a silk petal,
floating to the Earth,
A limited edition coin
and all that it is worth.

You are the color of adventure,
and freshly baked apple pie;
The color of snowfall on your face,
drifting down from the night sky

You are the color of paints
that stores just do not sell;
A sit-in or a marching protest,
fervent and raising hell.

You are the color of the strength
that arises with the dawn;
And when a king is overtaken
by a simple little pawn.

You are the colors found in everything:
extraordinary, nonetheless,
But more than all of that combined,
a fact I must confess;
You are the color of love and life,
with all that magic you possess.




- t.s.
TS Dec 2017
**** this.
**** this whole.

I realize that there is more elegance and eloquence to vocabulary but right now the only works that can escape my lips are

**** this.
Oh. And *******, too.


Sitting here sick
Sick and **** tired of this **** that life keeps throwing my way.
And I just deal with it...
Because I 'have to'.

*******.

'Have to'


Why the **** do I 'have to' be here? I didn't chose this. I didn't ask to be alive, ask to be conscious. I don't want to be here. I don't want to do this. I don't want to wake up each day and breathe and live and work and cry and sleep.

Well...
Sleep.

I'll keep that one.
Its nice to sleep. There's nothing else to worry about. A sweet serene oasis of mine. A place where I don't answer to the **** of other people.

I give it back. All of it. It doesn't work right. It never did. It never will. People say that I should be happy for the things I have and I say to those people...

**** that.

**** your standards of what I 'should' do or feel or know. **** your opinion on how I treat myself. **** your decision that my life is worth saving because so what. I don't want it. I return it. Take it back and give the whole thing to someone else who wants it.

But make sure you ask them first. Ask them if they want this life. Ask them if they desire to drudge through each day just to make it to the next. Ask them if they want the self-loathing, air of desecration that lingers all around me. Ask them if they'd love to know, everyday, what it feels like to have people NOT choose you over and over and over again. Because I'm sure, if you ask them ...

They'll want to return this life, too.


- t.s.
Aug 2017 · 498
More to Life than You
TS Aug 2017
Today I realized that there is more to life than you.

You may be the sunrise, but I am the sunset. People sit by windows and in parks and travel the world to watch my show.

You might be the tide but honey, I'm the rain that makes the flowers bloom.

You may be the breeze but darling I'm the stars; infinite, dazzling and the best wish you ever made.

Today I realized there is more to life than you;

there's my life, too.

-t.s.
Aug 2017 · 432
Stressed Out
TS Aug 2017
My brain rattles around and I'm lost on what to say, what to do, where to start. There is a mountain of things on my list of life. I don't want the list, I dont want anything on it, I don't want life.

I just want to run. Run very far away forever and ever until the end.

-t.s.
Aug 2017 · 416
Overwhelming Pain
TS Aug 2017
It travels through my bones, leaving my body weak. It stings my jaw line as my teeth clench. It makes lifeless my shoulders, my arms, my legs.

I am defeated.

The pain is overwhelming.

-t.s.
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