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Nov 2013 · 1.1k
Positive Thinking
Céleste Nov 2013
There's a certain upbeat feeling about today, it's only just dawn but I already know it's going to be a good day.
The air is still frigid, and the sun is not yet shining but I already know it's going to be a good day.
There's not much in my bank account, there aren't many in my phone book but I already know it's going to be a good day.
The floor will be cold when I get up, and there will be chores to do but I have a feeling that it's going to be a good day.
Today is going to be a good day.
Aug 2013 · 703
Strangers in a Park
Céleste Aug 2013
A pleasant sunny day,
Turned cloudy and confusing.
When once we were inseparable,
We are now avoidable.

I was distracted,
Or unwilling.
Out of the corner of my eye,
My brain decided not to make the connection.
And then there you were,
Dead on in my view.

I saw you look away.
I saw you turn away.
The undying sign,
That you had no interest in saying hello.
At first I was hurt.
But then I decided that it must be for the best.
What would we have said?
"Hi, how are you?"
What would we have thought?
"Oh, look there's that girl."

By the time I recognized you,
It was time for me to go.
A million seconds,
A thousand opportunities,
Had come and gone,
And not a word was said.

We are nothing more,
And will always be,
Strangers in a park.
Again, about friends come and gone.
Jul 2013 · 391
It's Okay...
Céleste Jul 2013
It is okay to be shallow.
If we were truly not the slightest bit,
then we would not have standards.
And we would be *****.
***** are more shallow than anyone I know.
Jul 2013 · 844
Breathing is Easier Today.
Céleste Jul 2013
Getting up to pull back the curtains,
push up the heavy glass windows,
hearing the birds chirp,
cars honking,
and feeling the cool, fresh breeze.
Breath.

Rub those sleepy eyes.
Yawn for one last time.
The hardwood floor is cooling to the touch of bare feet.
Blankets don't want to let go.
Breath.

Coffee is brewing.
Slip out of the silky jumper.
Clean off last night's cosmetic stains.
White tee, jeans, and converse.
Radio is playing songs that call for driving.
Breath.

Travel mug, keys, phone, and sunglasses in hand.
Car clicks open.
Windows roll down.
Yesterday's LuckyStrike scent lingers still.
Breath.

Camera bag is in the back seat.
Not a cloud in sight.
The roads are endless.
Breath.

Breathing is easier today.
It's a perfect Sunday morning.
Jul 2013 · 646
We Spent Our Time...
Céleste Jul 2013
Laughing at nothing,
driving around like nuts,
making up nonsense inside jokes,
enjoying breakfast at ungodly hours of the night,
falling all over each other,
gawking over the unattainable,
knowing all with one look,
smiling ear to ear,
putting make-up on,
sharing intimate thoughts and dreams,
and crying like there's no tomorrow.

Weren't we perfect?
We were infinite and unforgettable.
Now it's all gone and over with.
When did we lose faith?
Dare you to call.
Forgive and forget.
Say goodbye to all of it.

xoxo.
To lost friendships.
Jul 2013 · 580
True
Céleste Jul 2013
We cry.

We laugh.

We argue.

We have so much in common.

We barely know each other.

We love.

We love each other.

Xoxo.
We only care that we love each other.
Jul 2013 · 1.3k
The City of Lights
Céleste Jul 2013
As the sun is rising, every pastry and sandwich deli is opening its windows and doors.
Every time there is the slightest breeze, there's an undeniable sweet smell that takes over all of your senses.
Private cars, taxis, fashionable bikers, and speedy pedestrians.
Every one of them with a purpose they are on their way to.
Mornings are actually one of the brightest times of the day here.

The roads are cobblestone and crowded.
The parks are filled with sweet cafés and bitter cigarette smoke.
The young and old are scattered on the lawns.
The sky is the limit for young, adventurous souls.
The city is large enough for boredom to be scarce.
The city is small enough to walk through in a day.

As the sun is setting, shop keepers are drawing their blinds and closing the doors.
Wind starts blowing only the sweetest of hazelnut scents in every direction.
Carousals are all lit up and spinning nonstop.
Private cars, taxis, fashionable bikers, and coupled pedestrians.
Street and strung up lights take place of the mornings shrouded sunlight.
Evenings are of the most romantic times here.

The music will ****** your heart.
The sweets will indulge your stomach.
The books in the stores are dusted with curious fingers flipping through their fragile pages.
The bridges are waiting to be weighted with new and old love.
The city is charming enough for all friends.
The city is romantic enough for lovers.

Breathing is not a chore here,
Because it's the city of lights,
And it holds my heart.
I'll marry the one who can name this place and will hold my hand on evening strolls through the tight, shop lined stone streets. Xoxo.
Jul 2013 · 460
It Begins Again
Céleste Jul 2013
"I had fun tonight."

The keys are in the door,
His hand is on the small of her back.
When she turns for one more kiss,
He helps by pulling her into him.
His arms are wrapped tightly.
They can't get enough.
Suddenly the door is thrown open
And they are on the other side of the doorway.
He quickly reaches back to close it,
Keeping always one arm around her thin waist.
Her feet no longer touch the floor,
But their lips never unlock.

The bedroom is up the stairs and down the hall,
I don't think either of them can wait though,
The living room will have to do.
The coffee table is nudged,
The couch receives them readily.
Slowly, slowly he  unzips her tightly-fitted red dress.
Working his hands gently down her back,
The red dress comes off willingly with one tug.
Breathing heavily, she sits up,
Perched on his hips, she starts furiously unbuttoning his white dress shirt.
This simple task cannot take any longer.

"Wow."
They both breath taking in each other's bare chests.

Entangling her fingers in his hair,
It begins again.
His lips are so gentle and sure,
He needs no guidance,
From lips, cheek, neck, to her soft, strong shoulders.
She knows to slide one hand caressingly around his shoulder,
Down his side,
And let it sit just below the belly button.
Teasingly.

He's anxious.
She's ready.
There's nothing now to stop them.

The sun is up.
Her head is resting on his chest.
He's playing with her messy, morning hair,
With the other arm wrapped desirably around her waist.
Their eyes meet.
A wink,
A giggle follows,
Soft "Good morning," kisses are shared.
It's not long before his wandering hand finds her bare **** cheek.
Squeeze.

It begins again.


Xoxo.
Jul 2013 · 815
I Believe in Reality
Céleste Jul 2013
I  believe in chances.
Ones that we wake up to every morning.
Sometimes we let them get away,
Most  times we push them away.

I believe in fear.
Fear is an inspiration.
Sometimes we allow it to inspire us to be brave,
Most times fear inspires us to hide.

I believe in dreams.
Dreams are born out of fear.
We call them dreams because we are fearful,
Fearful of chances staring us in the face.
We run.
We hide.

The chances are there.
Ignore your fears.
Turn your dreams into reality.

— The End —