I wish I'd said hello to you at the door,
Rather than wait for you atop a white horse, at the bottom of a tower.
I didn't recognise you.
I've only ever seen you in armour.
So that's what your face looks like underneath your helmet.
And your hair is curly
I never would've guessed.
I wanted to sing your praises
when you made my heart stop.
But all my wide eyes did
Was see you pass right through me,
Without so much as a glance.
It's no use waiting for a perfect person to show up and love you. Smile back at everyone who bothers to smile at you in the first place.
I looked through a make-believe mirror today,
And saw what I have forever longed to see:
Myself in another person.
Our souls were of the same colour, and our thoughts swam at the same depth.
Our lips formed the same words and our faces shifted
the same way through conversations,
Even though I am a ship
And my reflection, the horizon.
As I am, so was my reflection cold and distant at times,
Though she was right next to me.
And I have never been good company for myself;
neither was I for her
For she was cold and I was cold
So she strayed towards warmth and
Away from herself
Towards a happiness that I could not provide.
She found it among other souls and
They made a rainbow through the night.
I found my dream and lost it too;
I see my reflection every day
But now my heart is broken.
How do you bring a person back to you when you see them drifting away? Let them find happiness for themselves.
"Have you no eyes?" they asked
"Can you not see?"
"Have you no ears? Can you not listen?"
"Have you no hands? Can you not feel?"
"Have you no heart? Can you not love?"
"A heart?" I laugh
"I have no heart to see the people around me
I have no heart to listen to your incessant noise and careless excuses
I have no heart to feel the world and
I have no heart to love my life."
If I am ever lost,
Fear not, for I am either
Lurking in the shadows where the derelict live,
In a suit of fire so the cold and desperate flock toward me.
Or on the twilight streets,
My skirt made of the first twinkling stars swishing about my knees,
Bearing silent witness to the belligerent noise.
I may also be in the meadow outside town
Flaunting the crown of butterflies that the fairies made for me,
As I played with them for as long as the moon hung in the sky.
If I am there and you do not know,
For I did not tell you
Because I would like to escape the straightjacket of my home.
Find the beautiful in the ordinary.
Of that cold spring day when our hands froze
Clutching cones of your favorite strawberry ice cream
Of the following warm summer day when my favorite
Chocolate ice cream coated our tongues
Of that day we escaped our classes
And found ourselves held captive
By the soft cherry ice
With nuts on top
Of bubblegum sonnets, of almond praline declarations of love
Of fig and honey serenades
With soft coffee angels singing in the back
And cookie cream cherubs whispering in our ears.
Of the best first taste.
Of the worst last lick.
I will never forget the person who taught me to see life beyond just Nutella ice cream; to explore all the flavors of the world.
This is my home
This is where I sleep
This is where I hope
This is where I dream.
This is where I cry
This is where I scream
This is where I'm home
This is where I'm me.
I live for it,
Breathe it in:
All the faults
In the skyline
But the breathtaking dawn
Is my lifeline.
This is where I raise my voice
This is where I made my choice
This is where I decided what to give
This is where I decided to live.
My city is still the beautiful wonderland it was when I was still little, in my eyes. I love it with all my heart. I would do anything for it.
Because outside is where the beasts lay.
They'll run with you all the way,
In such a sprint that you never tire
Or lose your breath
Or shiver your legs
Outside is where the sharp angles rest.
Deep cuts in straight lines, red blood dripping like rain,
And stones that have been cracking for centuries but never broken.
The great outdoors, that's where the fairies live.
They'll love you like you never knew love before.
It's the raw lips that kiss the roughest,
The calloused hands that hold on the tightest.
The rock-kissed fingers, they're designed to never let go.
Soft lips bruise. Mountainous lips live on forever.
Supple skin burns. Hard-cut edges light the flame in the sunrise.
Well-rounded means spoiled. Raw spirits mean earning the spoils.
Nature is telling us that we are not built for comfortable lives. We belong with our brothers, the wolves. We need to light the flames in each other to fight the wind. We need to be brash.