I'm told friendships don't last forever. Some are just for seasons.
If our season is winter, I'm clinging to it like a living room Christmas tree you keep forgetting to toss.
The kind that just sit there,
Rotting.
Withering.

Winter's so great you forget about all the downsides
You've got christmas, snow, hot cocoa
You forget about wet socks, frozen car doors, the cold, the sun setting early.
You forget winter has flaws
Eventually the snow melts
I have to keep winter.

a snowball in the freezer.
I check on it every morning
And I leave it there,
keeping it frozen while little snowflakes fall off slowly as the seasons change.

Then,
Winter comes again
The snow is back
My socks are wet but my snowball is thriving.
New snow blankets it and i hold it till my hands turn purple
And when the winter goes away again
My little peice of winter goes back in the freezer.

I don't remember a time where I didn't write.

I've always written down everything that's made me upset since I learned how to spell sad

S.A.D.

A feeling I know all too well

I can't quite say i'm sad all the time, but sad lingers

It sits in the back of my head, begging for me to use the steak knife at the dinner table to turn my arms into lined paper.

I've always been a writer

Papers and pen

A shield and a sword

My words sting like daggers, but they are shielded and locked between the confounds of composition books

The thoughts usually hidden for the sakes of others flow freely between these gaps and lines.

I've always been a writer

I'm told I never stop talking

But the words I speak are carefully chosen

What's written, What lies within that spiral notebook those are my real words

I've always been a writer.

I write this a requiem for me
An act of remembrance for the girl I used to be
A view out of the rose colored glasses of which I used to see
Oh little baby me
You have a gift, no one can see
You breathe in air, no one else breathes
You have a halo that rises above me
The beam of happiness that bounces off your smile goes on for a mile.
Not to mention your style
Your existence makes life worthwhile
You are the lily of the nile
You are only perfection in my eyes
You baby girl are all that is good in this world
You are a shining pearl
Your goodness may have faded on me.
But for all I can see you are as perfect as can be.
You, you are no longer me
You are better than I will ever be
So here I write a requiem
I write this for me
Not the me that I am, but the me i used to be
The one that sees more than I see.
I write this for me.

When male penguins like a female penguin they scower the entire beach looking for the perfect pebble and present it to her like a proposal.
I want a rock
A pebble
So small but big enough to fill the entirety of my heart.
My heart.
I'm told that one person cannot be your missing peice
I'm not sure if i'm in love with the pebble, but maybe the idea of someone giving it to me.
I'm not in love with the Penguin, but the idea of what he represents.
Someone to walk with me through thick and thin and breathe my air.
Someone to sit next to me during a scary movie.
Someone to hold my hand under the table and giggle about a joke that no one understands but us
Someone to give me a pebble
But pebbles don't fill that void
that hole
Pebbles can only do so much
I can collect pebbles like Pokémon cards, but I will never fill that hole
Because a pebble can't be all of you
No person
No rock
Nothing but god alone can fill the void that lingers in my soul
But yet I continue to dig and dig and dig and dig
for the pebble that's perfect for me
But a pebble isn't what I need