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701 · Dec 2013
Conflicted
Gossamer Dec 2013
Picture frames outline memories;
I wonder if you think of me,
And the nights when we would run wild;
I turn back time, and try to smile.

Do you remember freshman year?
We were carefree, you were still here,
And movie tickets formed a pile;
I turn back time, and try to smile.

Do you remember your last day?
We said goodbye, you drove away,
And I broke down, just like a child;
I turn back time, and try to smile.


Even if you don't think of me,
I hope you're living happily.
These photographs should last awhile;
I turn back time, and try to smile.
Gossamer Oct 2014
Zero;
You
Xenophilic
Wanderer,
Vastly
Unaware
That
She
Remembers,­
Quietly
Pondering,
Ominous.
Nothing;
Maybe
Love,
Kaleidoscope
Je­alousy,
Igniting
Hatred,
Grieving
For
Everything.
Done;
Can't
Beg­in
Again.
687 · Oct 2014
The Fault: She Is Enough
Gossamer Oct 2014
I am a heavily folded
sheet of stationery.
A Roman
nobleman.
She is
so
so
sick.
You are
Shakespeare;
you are
wrong.
It took me
f o r e v e r
to decode:
The fault is
NOT
in our stars,
but in
ourselves.

She is a letterhead.
She is in
my empty bed.
She is
enough.
Rearranged words from a page in "The Fault in Our Stars" by John Green
686 · Jul 2013
Sing Me To the Sea
Gossamer Jul 2013
All i want is for you to sing me to sleep

rock me back and forth ever so gently

like the waves of the deep blue sea



All i need is your peaceful lullaby

healing the wounds i have inside

taking me over like high tide



You be the water and i'll be the land

you be the ocean and i'll be the sand

we'll stay side by side year round

even when the waves come crashing down



All i need to hear is a guitar strum

my silly fears i'll overcome

and you will warm me like the island sun



All i want is a tiny spark

to continue the beating of my fragile heart

and protect it like a great white shark



You be the water and i'll be the land

you be the ocean and i'll be the sand

we'll stay side by side year round

even when the waves come crashing down



Can you sing me to sleep my dear?

your voice is all i need to hear

Can you sing me a sweet farewell?

I'll listen to you like I do the shells



You be the water and i'll be the land

you be the ocean and i'll be the sand

we'll stay side by side year round

even when the waves come crashing down



and when your loving melody

sends me out into the sea

do not try to rescue me

for that is where i want to be
685 · Sep 2013
Unopened
Gossamer Sep 2013
She pulled the ribbon
(gently, of course)
until it was perfectly centered
on the top of the plain brown box
and she placed it on his doorstep
(gently, of course)

She hid behind the trees
across the street
eyes peeking,
mind wandering;
where was he?

She waited
and watched
and waited
and watched
as people walked by
and packages were delivered;
but nobody took notice of
the small brown box
with the pretty ribbon
at the top

And she watched him
hug girls
that she knew didn't love him
and she watched him
kiss girls
that surely had sour lips
and she watched him
kick the little brown box
with the ribbon on top
to the side;
and she cried,
"please be gentle,
my heart is inside!"

But the boy didn't hear her
as she collapsed, broken
because the gift of her love
would never be opened.
682 · Jan 2014
Inhale, Exhale
Gossamer Jan 2014
Inhale, exhale the summer air;
Squint your eyes, avoid the glare
Of a brilliantly blinding sun -
But miss it when the day’s done,
And of night’s coolness you’re aware.

Let chlorine infiltrate your hair;
Your heart its scent will soon ensnare,
And you won’t ever try to run…
Inhale, exhale.

You cannot help but stop and stare
At the stars when the night is fair;
And when you sleep, you see the sun.
The heat of the sand makes you run,
Your body abuzz from the scent of the air:
Inhale, exhale.
677 · May 2015
She No Longer Wakes
Gossamer May 2015
Why didn’t he return?

This becomes the question,

the faint heat;

Why didn’t he make it?

She radiates fire;

He becomes unreachable,

futile.

He never arrived.

She is throwing whispered

rhymes across the afternoon,

burned, trying to summon courage,

but failing. She no longer wakes.

He Is Not Coming Back.
Words used were taken from Doerr's All The Light We Cannot See
674 · Dec 2013
Ode to Midnight Tears
Gossamer Dec 2013
I cannot stand the taste of salt
On my tongue as the night drags on
And although it is my own fault
I cannot stand to know you’re gone;
Sheets covered in raindrops – no,
Those are pieces of my heart
And I find myself alone tonight
(Perhaps deservingly so);
Didn’t mean to yell, to fall apart;
I’ve always feared the light.

My lips are unbearably numb;
Is this how I’ll miss your kiss?
Is this what I’ve become?
Lost your love in the abyss,
The depths of my own mind,
Where voices ring loud:
“You are not worthy!”
Oh, I do apologize;
Words like these won’t make you proud,
But neither will girls like me.

I am acquainted with early hours
Of the morning, and yes
One a.m., I miss the flowers;
Midnight has already seen the mess
That is my forlorn heart
And yes, two a.m.,
You may wipe clean my canvas face
For sadness is not a work of art;
Were my lips not meant to part again?
Perhaps I am simply a soul misplaced.
657 · Jan 2014
Please Stand
Gossamer Jan 2014
Please stand, please rise
Wipe the doubt from your eyes;
You know this is wrong.
You are your love, you are strong -
Don’t you realize?

You’ve seen them, heard their cries
Watched them stare at the skies,
So clouded, still singing their song
(Please stand).


Cut the power-woven ties,
Don’t settle for a compromise.
You know they won’t last long;
You are resilient, so strong,
And everyone is sick of the lies;
Please stand.
Gossamer Feb 2014
The polaroid says you are exquisite,
With your midnight hair and sapphire eyes,
Your rose petal lips, oh so delicate,
And the sound of your voice (what lovely lies).
And I can’t argue; it was me, after
All, who swooned at the mere sight of you, who
Got lost in the tan of your skin, your laugh,
The way you said my name and you, you, you.
But the camera couldn’t see your heart,
Fiery red, from all the stolen love,
Kisses and hugs you collected like art,
Displayed in places I only dreamed of
(your mind, I dreamt of it so often, I
Regret those nights, I wish I hadn’t cried).
sonnet.
642 · Jan 2014
Little Dynamo
Gossamer Jan 2014
I
Get up, little warrior, little dynamo,
Do not frown at your affliction,
Stand tall, you are stone, you are fearless,
They are irrelevant, so merciless,
With one goal, to see you melancholy,
But you are titanium, you are strong.

II
They are the opposition, you are strong,
Sword in hand and heart and mind, little dynamo,
You know better, you do not deserve to be melancholy,
No matter what cards you are dealt, this affliction
Is sand, they are sand, they are merciless,
But you are the captain of the S.S. Fearless.

III
Your eyes scream it, “I am fearless,”
They will know it, feel it, you are so strong,
Don’t let your ears near their words, ***** and merciless,
You are a diamond, little dynamo,
Their minds are limited, can they even define affliction,
Your heart is too warm to be melancholy.

IV
Four feet tall, so strong, what affliction?
Little dynamo, who is merciless?
You cannot be melancholy if you are fearless.
634 · Sep 2015
Bruises
Gossamer Sep 2015
She woke up under a sheet and didn't realize it right away,
but she was lying right next to regret disguised as a
beautiful liar.
Her clothes are on the floor and her head is pounding
and she remembers pushing his hand away but when
she sneaks into his bathroom while he's still passed out,
she sees the blood all over her torn underwear and it becomes
fairly clear what happened last night;
she keeps the bloodied garment only because she needs to say
there was something he didn't take from her
while her vision was blurry
and she texts her friends saying she's home and fine and just
so, so tired, but she stands in a scalding shower for an hour trying to
wash away the disgust and the blood and the bruises
and they won't go, so she tries to sleep, but she's haunted by
everything and is so angry with herself and with him and now it's
midnight again and she hasn't eaten all day and her friends think she's
thrown up seven times because she drank too much,
but the nausea came from the memories,
and now it's been a week and the bruises are yellow
but they still hurt the same
and he never texted her
and she's still bleeding
and she burned that pair of underwear
and cut her hair short
and stuffed that ****** black dress in the back of her closet
and told God she'd happily keep the bruises on her arms
and legs
and hips
and neck
if He would just heal
the ones covering her heart.
619 · Aug 2014
Equivocation
Gossamer Aug 2014
And this is how it goes:
you will talk for hours.
he will tell you
you’re
b e a u t i f u l,
that your eyes belong
with the stars,
that your smile puts
the sunrise to shame,
that you are nothing short
of perfect.

you will believe him.
this is where
the trouble starts.

Lips will crash
and so will walls
and skin will touch
but he won’t feel anything
other than what he wants
to feel
what he always planned
on feeling
and when you ask
why he hasn’t called
why you no longer talk
for hours,
he will twist and turn
his words
until he’s back to telling you
how the smell of your hair
is intoxicating
and you will ask
if he loves you
and he will tell you
your laugh
is adorable
and your hands
belong in his
and you will ask
if he loves you
and he will tell you
that you look so good
in that little black dress
and you will ask
if he loves you
and you will ask
if he loves you
and in his avoidance,
you will find your answer.
Gossamer Apr 2015
I try to make it him.
I try to stare into his eyes and
feel the same but
I don't and I wish I could,
I wish it could be him,
I wish it wasn't you,
but it's you,
it's you,
it's you and I
do not know
if that will ever change.
583 · Feb 2014
Dear XXX
Gossamer Feb 2014
Dear ***, do you recall last night?
Of course you don’t – so let me remind you.
Twelve a.m. (four hours late), right-left-right,
You stumbled up to the door, she was through
Many, many months ago, but she stayed,
Hoping that you’d change, come home sober for
A change, in her red dress that night she prayed
For bravery, for the courage to leave,
She wasn’t religious until you went
And made her feel like a sinner, believe
Me when I say every penny you spent
On *****, every night you weren’t with her,
Was your loss. Sincerely, her sister.
582 · Apr 2015
8/27/14
Gossamer Apr 2015
Last night - no, wait, this morning - I swore I heard thunder and I wondered where I was for a moment, as I had never slept through wind and rain in this place, and in fact, there are many things I have not done in this place but would like to do, and maybe I won’t get through all of those things in my first year, but I’d like to check some things off my list, you know, stay out all night, be able to say I stayed sober, sleep in all morning, watch all nine seasons of Criminal Minds on Netflix (bless), wonder if he likes me too, know he likes me too, try sushi again since I just tried guac again and ended up loving it, try loving again and maybe end up feeling okay after, not used or tattered or torn, not in the way some people do of course, but really only just scratched up, or maybe I’m shattered, who’s to say how broken someone is, and more importantly, who’s to say they can’t be fixed, and maybe I’m already on the mend, away from many of the things that pulled me down, left me floating in the ocean (i’ve always been afraid since The Fish Incident), just the front of my face above water, struggling for air, a fine line of salty water creating a border between skin and ocean, and who knows where this is even going or what I’ll draw from it but I love the possibility that even a few words could form something great, in the same way I love the possibilities here, because last night while my roommate was sleeping I realized that one day my work may be on a bookshelf - should they still exist come the publication of my novel - and my dreams could very well come true, quite soon, with just a little help from the people and places i’ve been waiting so long to discover, and another thing, another realization: it is possible that my future husband is somewhere on campus, oh my, how mind boggling, do people even say mind boggling, probably not, I don’t usually but then again I don’t usually do this and look where that’s gotten me, but in all seriousness, I know people joke about finding it difficult to believe someone would want to marry them, allow you to share their last name, have a family with you, genuinely want to spend the rest of their life with you, but that really is a problem for me, because I’m strange, but not in the way you’d think, or maybe in the way you think, I don’t know how you think, after all.
Found a freewriting piece in the style of Safran-Foer that I wrote in my first college literature class. Reading back over it, I quite liked it.
576 · Aug 2013
Thoughts (a short rambling)
Gossamer Aug 2013
There are certain people, who, when you look at them, all you see is the past. You don't notice that they cut their hair or got their braces off, or that they're a little taller than when you last saw them. You look at them and see the first time you two hung out, or the first time you kissed. Suddenly, you're five-ten-fifteen again, laughing and smiling and happy. You look into their eyes and all you see are memories. They are standing there, right in front of you, in real time - and all you can see is what used to be...and maybe what could have been. And it hurts. Old friends and lovers alike can turn your eyes into a time machine. They're the people you grew up with and thought would never change. The people who left even though they still live next door. They're the people you hate to love and love to miss.
575 · Sep 2013
Dreaming Out Loud
Gossamer Sep 2013
A blank canvas sits against the wall,
no pencils or brushes in sight.
The towering clock's about to fall,
her fists are clenched so tight.
A thought provokes a memory,
here comes the nimbus cloud.
She looks at what she shouldn't see,
and now she's dreaming out loud.

He's sitting across the quiet lake,
alone and deep in thought.
She sends her heart for him to take,
and now she remembers what she once forgot;
That her lonely heart can't swim alone,
for it is no longer proud.
Her pride is stripped down to the bone;
oh how it hurts to dream out loud.

And so her love sinks to the bottom of the pond,
while he watches with a sly smile.
She fell for what she was sure was a bond,
but he was only adding to the limitless pile.
Open eyes soon reveal a story in color,
this canvas depicts what she once vowed.
The story she shares is like no other,
because it was told by dreaming out loud.
572 · Dec 2013
The Vase on the Counter
Gossamer Dec 2013
The vase sits on the counter by the window. I cry every time I look at it. This wound is still too fresh; how long will it take for a scar to form? Of course I remember it like it was yesterday; a week is not long at all, though it feels like it's been an eternity. The movie had just ended when I checked my phone. A few hours later, I was back at home. So was she. But not in the way I wanted her to be. We just sat around the table and cried that night. How can you feel a sense of impending doom when your world has already crashed down around you? There was no funeral. No service. No gathering. Nobody stopped by to express their sorrow or pay their respects. No flowers, food, or cards were received. All we got was a vase. I don't think I'll ever stop wondering whether the heaviness in my steps in the two hundred feet from the car to the counter came from the weight of her ashes or the weight of missing her.

I will miss your paws
I will miss your wagging tail
I'll miss all of you
563 · Feb 2014
Promises
Gossamer Feb 2014
Were they lies, or broken promises?
The times you told me you’d stay,
But fled the moment a better opportunity
Presented itself; what can I say?

I was foolish. Time and time again,
Alone, that was where I found myself,
The walls caving in just as quickly as your
Promises, the room collapsing in on itself.

I looked up “promises” in the dictionary,
But they got it wrong; the definition should read:
“things you may have meant for a moment
But threw away so quickly…” Do you see?

Perhaps the worst was “I love you”;
An unspoken promise that leaves me crying
At your blatant disregard for my heart;
I should’ve known you were lying.
562 · Jan 2014
Spring
Gossamer Jan 2014
These April showers
Will last for hours,
Days, weeks, until it is May,
And sweet petrichor
Leaves you wanting more…
Addicted ‘till the last day.



These flowers will bloom
In an empty room,
Fueled by the hope in the air;
A new beginning,
Children grinning,
Plenty of daylight to spare.

These days will be fair,
Making you aware
Of the life that surrounds you,
Like bright butterflies
That head for the skies…
So splendid, so vast, so blue.
Gossamer Jan 2014
I do not want to say goodnight
And lie in wait ‘till morning light,
Praying to something I’ll see your face
For one more day, in this lonely place,
In the midst of this wretched plight…

Is it selfish of me to want you to fight
Harder? And can I say it’s bright
When I am in darkness’ embrace?
I do not want to.

These days go by in black and white -
They say you’re slipping; that can’t be right.
Trying to breathe, but I’m in space,
And your memory of me is nearly erased.
The sun is setting; can I say goodnight?
I do not want to.
Gossamer Nov 2014
Why won't the tears flow
why can't I cry
I am numb from the cold
and slowed by the alcohol
running through my veins,
my brain;
there is not enough
alcohol
running through
my veins;
my heart still aches -
I can feel it.
My pulse still shakes -
I can feel it
in every part of me.
And he was beautiful,
and i told you that,
and you drank a little too much
and showed me how it's done,
how i'll never be as pretty
as skinny
as enchanting

and that other boy is
beautiful,
too,
but he'd never think twice
because he's a good guy

i thought the first one
was a good guy
but he was just good
at making me feel
special

i thought the second one
was a good guy
but he was
no different
from the first

i have felt used
and i have felt
wanted

but i have never felt
needed,
never felt
loved

and sometimes
when i feel the heaviness
throughout me,
I feel like maybe i'll
find someone
who will make me
believe i'm worth it,
but it's nights like these
that make me question it,
make me wonder if maybe
i was meant to walk home
alone
in twenty degree weather
in a skin tight dress,
catcalled,
called a *****,
because apparently loneliness
equates to promiscuity,
and i suppose if i
was worth it
i wouldn't have to write
about being lonely
because i wouldn't be lonely
if i was special
if i was worth it
if i was worth
anything
i will probably forget about this later oops
Gossamer Mar 2015
Here is the thing:

I do not want to be your favorite thing. I want to be one of them, but not your only.
I do not want to always be your last thought before your eyes flutter to a close at night. I'd like to be on your mind, but not always, not always the last thing.
I do not want to be your first hello and your last goodbye. I want to be a part of the conversation.
I do not want to be your passion. I want to be the only one who can pull you away from your greatest passion. I want to be your greatest distraction.
I do not want to be the center of your world. I want to be a continent, an ocean, a landmark. I want to be a part of something bigger.
I do not want to occupy the entirety of your heart. I want to fit into your heart in a way that if I were to leave, you'd feel the gasping loss of me, but you would carry on.

You see, this is the thing:
I do not want to be The Greatest Thing. I want to be Something.
506 · Jul 2013
If
Gossamer Jul 2013
If
If broken hearts were broken glass, we'd walk on shattered ground
and if each lie told was a second of silence, we'd never hear a sound.
If every threat, punch, kick, and scream was a color on a wall
a sheer rainbow kaleidoscope would loom over us all.
And if every time you closed your eyes, you had a different dream
would the world be much more peaceful, or just as crazy as it seems?
If you could run back far enough, the air just might be warm;
and the clouds just might turn indigo - the calm before the storm.
497 · Jul 2013
Sometimes I Travel
Gossamer Jul 2013
Sometimes I travel

alone in my mind

in seach of an answer

a miracle find



I'll get lost in the canyons

the rocky terrain

and search for my answer

until I go insane



When I reach the old lighthouse

I always turn around

and stop searching for my answer

I walk back without a sound



As I enter the forest

that leads me back home

I thinking about my missing answer

and I feel so alone



Sometimes I come back

but today I think I won't

I thought I needed more time

but today I think I don't.
496 · Jul 2013
I'm Not Fine
Gossamer Jul 2013
Picture frames outline bad memories

the pain is deeper than the eye can see

and i promised myself i wouldn't believe

that anything was wrong with me

but my world is spinning

and i'm trying to walk in a straight line

my eyes are open but i am blind

no, no, i'm not fine;

i've never been fine.



tossing and turning at three a.m.

thinking of how things were different back then

my stomach is twisting and i can't  pretend

that i am okay and this isn't the end

the room starts to shake and the walls start to bend

so i slowly close my eyes

and try not to cry

no, no, i'm not fine;

i've never been fine.



Shaking and crying on the bathroom floor

i cannot pretend anymore

it started at three and now it's four

my breathing is shallow and my stomach is sore

the pain and fear shoot through to my core

when it finally ends, i don't ask myself why

because now i do realize

no, no, i'm not fine;

i've never been fine.
Gossamer Jul 2013
i wish i hadn't been raised

the way i was

wish i would've been praised

instead of screamed at

or smacked



i wish the memories

weren't so painful

wish the pieces of me

weren't scattered

or that my heart wasn't torn and tattered



'cause maybe if i hadn't felt the pain so early

i wouldn't have thought it strange

that someone wanted to hold my hand, and surely

i would still be with you today.



and maybe it's true,

that i shoulda kissed you

and maybe it's true,

that i wish there was something i could do

and maybe it's true,

that i'm still in love with you,

all i know is that i miss you;

i really, really do.





i wish i could go back

to the moment i let you go

wish i could tell you that

i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry.



i wish i hadn't run away

from the thing i loved the most

wish i could hear you say

that i was beautiful, just one last time.

wish you were still mine.



'cause maybe if i had told you i was scared

because fear is all i've ever known,

you would have told me that you cared,

and that you'd never let me go.



and maybe it's true

that i should've kissed you

and maybe it's true

that i wish there was something i could do

and maybe it's true

that i'm still in love with you

all i know is that i miss you;

i really, really do.



every night when i lay down,

i swim in tears until i drown

because i did this to myself

i opened up this violent hell

and i can never go back

no, i can't go back



and maybe it's true

that i should've kissed you

and maybe it's true

that i've always been in love with you

but now there's nothing i can do

except miss you

i'm sorry that i have to miss you

because i left you

oh, i miss you.
This was very painful for me to write.
477 · Jul 2013
What If You Had Kissed Me?
Gossamer Jul 2013
What if i just left this house

took the car and drove downtown

and watched the lights glow all around

the sleepless, dreamless city?



what if i just cut the cord

left this land and stepped aboard

a ship just as it left its port

not knowing where i'm going



and what if you were next to me

as i drove through the quiet city?

and what if you were holding my hand

as i departed from the corrupted land?



what if i just moved away

a sudden, risky getaway

so i could maybe breakaway

from the life i'm sick of living



what if i just said goodbye?

would you miss me, would you cry?

would a single tear drop from your eye?

would you hug me one last time?



and what if you were still next to me

like you were back when the air wasn't misty

and what if you hadn't let me run away

what if you had kissed me?
475 · Sep 2013
Catch
Gossamer Sep 2013
When you are at the edge
tip-toeing along the ledge
and tears fall from your eye
to the ground
two hundred feet below;
I really hope you know
that I will catch you
if you decide
it's time to go
and even if you fell
ten thousand miles
toward the ground
I would make sure to catch you
because I want you
safe and sound.
Gossamer Feb 2014
Three a.m., you’re at my window;
I am half asleep, mumbling,
Asking why you’re here; I’m a mess.
I make my way downstairs, stumbling…

Four a.m., we’re in my backyard,
And your eyes ought to dot the night sky.
I cannot look away; your face is a galaxy.
You catch me stargazing, but you don’t mind.

Five a.m., my eyelids are fluttering;
The moon, your smile, they start to blend.
I think I hear a melody, maybe…
No, no, it’s your voice; I cannot pretend.

Six a.m., the sun is set to rise again,
But we’ve lost track of time to keep;
The dawn is slowly breaking now,
And we’re alone, in love, asleep.
470 · Jan 2014
Sold
Gossamer Jan 2014
She is five years old,
And her heart is sold
On a giant teddy bear;
She begs her mother,
Claiming no other
Toy is worth her tender care.

She is ten years old,
And her heart is sold
On the boy that lives next door,
As if he’s a prize
(His icy blue eyes
Are what she truly adores).

She’s sixteen years old
And her heart is sold
On that shiny, new black car
She says, “I can pay
And though I won’t stay
I will never travel far.”

She’s eighteen years old,
And her heart is sold
On a book of memories;
Her parents will cry
When she says goodbye,
But she’ll miss them - can’t they see?
468 · Dec 2013
Six Months Later
Gossamer Dec 2013
Icy eyes that unfroze my heart,
A riveting love from the start.
Great wings unfurled, for I was free;
You are my revered memory.

The stars have dulled, the moon won’t rise;
This loneliness brings dark grey skies.
We loved and loved so fearlessly;
You are my revered memory.

I cannot think, I cannot dream!
My heart is ripping at the seams.
I am still lost in reverie;
You are my revered memory.

Don’t think I’ll ever recover;
You were unlike any other.
And though I am in misery,
You are my revered memory.
461 · Jan 2014
Time Laughs
Gossamer Jan 2014
Time laughs on an airplane
Knowing things will never be the same
For them, two best friends,
Dancing like there will be no end,
Like Life will always be tame.

But, ah, there’s the flame!
Only memories will remain
(They will burn until they break);
Time laughs.

It all feels like a race, a game
They look back at it all with such disdain;
They used to dance, used to send
Each other letters, would defend
Each other’s names…
Time laughs.
457 · Nov 2014
You Are An Artist
Gossamer Nov 2014
The landscape is a thought thing.
It’s an art thing, but it’s also a thought thing,
because thoughts are art.
Think about it.

As you think about the past and
dream about the future,
you are a painter.
As you work your way toward
a goal, you are
a sculptor.
You criticize your reflection
in the mirror and create
a self-portrait in your head
that would be unrecognizable
to others. In these
moments of insecurity,
you are an abstract artist.
When you try to remember
the face of that person
on the crowded city street
who briefly stole your heart,
you are a
sketch artist.

This is the thing:
you may aspire to be a
business owner,
a doctor,
an author,
an actor,
a dentist,
a professional athlete,
but do not forget that
no matter where life takes you,
you will always be an artist.
You have always been
an artist.
455 · Jun 2016
Ad Maiora
Gossamer Jun 2016
In my dreams, I lose my teeth
and packs of wolves howl at me
I run toward them in the moonlight

And when I wake, you're lying there
I'll start to smile, I'll touch your hair
but you'll just turn away

I'll get a coffee, maybe two
whenever I go out with you
in case I start to fall asleep
in case I start to dream

In my dreams, I'm running free
across the land, between the trees
and all the wolves run with me

And in the morning, I am sore
from dreaming hard, from wanting more,
from all these chains that bind me

You say that I've been acting strange,
sleeping all of my days away,
but I'm not tired, and I'm not sleeping
I'm awake, and I am dreaming

In my dreams, they call to me
the mountaintops, the evergreens
and I hear the haunting echo of a howl;
so this is all to let you know
that when I do decide to go
it's really, truly just because of me;
it's only ever been about my dreams.
"toward greater things"
452 · Nov 2014
Hot Water
Gossamer Nov 2014
It's cold and these blankets are not enough
It's cold and I am not as tough
as I used to be
back when
it was you and me
and though I love the snow,
I think I loved you more.

Or maybe that's what I let myself believe;
that I miss you because you don't miss me.
I cannot name this feeling,
this emptiness in my bones
But I can hardly feel the fire
and all I really know is that

Sometimes when I get lonely
I go back to missing you
I step into the shower
Like we always used to
and feel the flames
as they cascade down my face
it's not the same,
it's not the same,
but maybe this hot water
can replace
your embrace
for tonight.

It's quiet and I miss the lovely sounds
of your singing from when you were around
and I still
feel your touch
lingering
and it's too much
to know that I may have been the one
to throw it all away

And maybe I'm losing my mind because
all of my friends are deep in love
while I'm deep in a rut
but this lack of sound
is threatening to shatter me
and I don't know if I could recover,
but I do know that

Sometimes when I get lonely
I go back to missing you
I step into the shower
Like we always used to
and feel the flames
as they cascade down my face
it's not the same,
it's not the same,
but maybe this hot water
can replace
your embrace
for tonight.

My skin is red from all this heat
won't you please say that you need me?
My temperature is 102
oh, don't you know that I love you?
And if I do disintegrate,
If you find me here too late,
will you make the water cold?
Will you make sure our story's told?
435 · Jul 2013
The Darker Side Of Life
Gossamer Jul 2013
there was a time when i was invincible

but sitting here today, i feel so cynical

getting out of this alive will be a miracle;

how did i end up this way?



I think i do remember now,

the who, the why, the when, the how;

all of these people let me down;

are you starting to catch on?



Don't grow up, it's all a lie

you'll get your wings, but you can't fly

and to the barren ground you're tied

left alone to sit and cry

'cause freedom is nothing but the freedom to choose

whether your drown your sorrow in tears or *****

and even when you win, you lose

life knocks the life right out of you.



On the side of the road on friday night

i'm feeling a little less than alright

hoping that maybe a flame will ignite;

why is everything so loud?



as i watch the cars zoom by,

i forget that there are people inside

speeding and driving and living their lives

seeing the world through a million new eyes



I'm not sure how I got this low

I'm not sure where I'm gonna go

I'm not sure if I'll ever know

why happiness decided to go.



Don't grow up, it's all a lie

you'll get your wings, but you can't fly

and to the barren ground you're tied

left alone to sit and cry

'cause freedom is nothing but the freedom to choose

whether you drown your sorrows in tears or *****

and even when you win, you lose

life knocks the life right out of you



So don't grow up, just stay right there

because life is rough and it doesn't care;

it'll tie you to your own tracks and leave you there,

to wallow in your own despair

and happiness will never share;

the bottom line is, life's not fair.
Gossamer Oct 2014
She is porcelain,
shattered.
I remember her yelling,
"Oh
dear
oh
dear,"
blank in the face;
a single tear
on the edge of
her right eye.

She is broken,
sudden mayhem.
I remember her,
grabbing my shoulders,
her gaze lifting
over my head;
and then
I witnessed
the most
extraordinary
thing:



her eyes.
Rearranged words from a page in "The Mountains Echoed" by Khaled Housseini
421 · Jan 2016
Cyclical
Gossamer Jan 2016
T H E  B E G I N N I N G
It's always blue skies,
glittering eyes,
red wine on our lips
when you say goodnight.

It's always new highs,
butterflies,
everything I think I need
to feel right inside.

T H E  I N E V I T A B L E
It's always grey skies,
white lies,
red wine on the floor
when we're fighting
for hours 'til you say
you don't love me anymore

and the door closes behind you
and I beg the sun to rise
and it's always
always
always
you who says goodbye
418 · Jan 2014
Why Ten is Better
Gossamer Jan 2014
I
The sky was brighter when you were four,
You think, but what do you really know,
They say you haven’t any knowledge at ten,
You are too young, maybe when you’re sixteen
You’ll know a little more, about heartbreak,
About driving a stick shift, about life.

II
Maybe when you’re twenty you’ll see life
With fresh eyes, a different “fresh” than four,
You were so young then, what is heartbreak,
You didn’t know, you didn’t know, you didn’t know,
Do you want to understand, do you want to be sixteen,
Or would you rather stay innocent, stay ten?

III
You feel small, confused, you are ten,
You needn’t be, you have a decade of life
Under your belt, but you are not sixteen,
You haven’t driven alone, what is freedom, four
Is young enough to know love, know
Why the sun sets to rise again, but not heartbreak.

IV
It’s a long life, but it’s a short life, you know;
You dismiss four and yearn for sixteen;
Don’t yearn for heartbreak, live for ten.
417 · Nov 2014
A Question
Gossamer Nov 2014
She avoided the question for the same reason most people avoid things - she feared the answer, that she couldn't handle it.

It would be so easy.
Just three words.

Who is she?

She wanted to know.
Desperately.
But if her name was not his answer,
everything would surely turn black.

What do you do when the one you love loves another?

She decided she did not want to know.
413 · Oct 2014
Alaska: Our Last Day
Gossamer Oct 2014
Who?
I'll flirt
my way through
who?
You.

What
are
you?

Brilliant, funny, filled
with liquor.

A faded sign,
her every
exhalation unsignaled.

Sobbing, sudden.

A mix of whimper and scream
and cigarettes and wine and knock-knock
jokes and ***** and

it was our
last day, Saturday,
our
last
day.
Rearranged words from a page in "Looking For Alaska" by John Green
413 · Nov 2013
3:19 A.M. In a Sterile Room
Gossamer Nov 2013
“This is not goodbye.”
I bite my tongue and close my eyes
So I don’t scare you, so I don’t cry;
I bow my head and pray.

I bite my tongue and close my eyes
The pain is hot as it rushes inside
I bow my head and pray;
The weight of missing you will pull me under.


The pain is hot as it rushes inside
I do not want the sun to rise;
The weight of missing you will pull me under,
But I know you’d never lie.

I do not want the sun to rise;
You can’t be gone, you must be mine
But I know you’d never lie:
“This is not goodbye.”
411 · Sep 2013
After the Rain
Gossamer Sep 2013
i can see the pain inside of you,
with every step you take;
you're quitting things you used to do,
but hold on, for my sake.

because after the rain,
when the sun starts to shine
you'll forget all the pain
and your heart can be mine
'cause i love you too much
to let you say goodbye
and your hand i will clutch,
with a tear in my eye...
after the rain.

i can tell that you're hurting,
with each word that you speak
all this pain you're exerting,
is making you bleak.

but after the rain,
when the clouds move aside
you will finally be sane,
and i'll be your bride
'cause as much as you need me,
i need you here too;
you couldn't begin to belive,
all the things we could do...
after the rain.

I can tell your mind's failing,
as well as your heart,
but grip the cold railing,
and we'll get a fresh start.

And after the rain,
when the world becomes new
we'll be popping champagne
under a sky that's bright blue
'cause after the water's dry,
we'll never be the same;
we will prevail, you and I...
after the rain.
401 · Oct 2014
At Night, I Fall For You
Gossamer Oct 2014
It's always at night.

I remember the first one;
the air was heavy with the heat
of summer, the bonfire
at full blaze. The sprinklers
came on and everyone ran,
but you just laughed. I soon
came to learn that your typical
reaction was to laugh. I soon came
to learn I loved it.

The second night, we were
uptown, our path lit by
traffic lights and flickering street lamps.
I walked next to you.
It was enough then.

The third night came unexpectedly;
I was supposed to be in bed by midnight,
but suddenly, it was four a.m.,
and we were sitting on someone else's bed,
in darkness, our only light being the illuminating
laptop screen, music in the background,
and you were inches away
but I felt farther away than ever
and your hand brushed my leg and
I have never wanted to lie with
someone so badly and
you are exhausted but still smiling,
still focused on the music and
I have never wanted to kiss someone
so badly and i do not know why
i do not know why but i know
that we are not possible,
and it is all a fantasy
and desperation is a bitter taste,
a hollow feeling that burrows itself
in your bones,
and when i think of how much love
you have for her,
tiny cracks begin to form in my crystal heart.

I've heard you tell them you're going to marry her
when you're drunk.

Last night,
you read my poetry
and listened to my playlists
and how am I still so willing
to give so much away
and risk so much
for someone
who may never
give a ****?
Gossamer Oct 2014
Allow me to make a confession:

I did steal.
(I did not know.)

At the time, I was
waiting outside a
wedding hall.
She
was listening:
to engines idling,
the muffled sound
of music.
She was beautiful,
graceful;
she lit a cigarette -
noticed me -
and her feet
were bare.
She offered no indication
that she felt it.

She wore sunglasses and smoked.

I did steal.
I sat outside,
and I did steal.

I did not know.
Rearranged words from a page in "And The Mountains Echoed" by Khaled Housseini
389 · Oct 2014
Unravel Me: It Was A Gift
Gossamer Oct 2014
Unable to fly,
unable to
shimmer in
the light.
I move like a
d r e a m,
soundless.
Icy air makes
me feel
e x t r a o r d i n a r y.
I finally have
s o m e t h i n g.
I've woken up
i n v i n c i b l e.
Purple,
plum,
almost black -
the bleating
in my heart
without anyone,
made for me,
custom,
s k i n t i g h t.

It
was
a
gift.
Rearranged words from a page in "Unravel Me" by Tahereh Mafi
386 · Jan 2014
You and I
Gossamer Jan 2014
Droplets fall, cascade
Around me; I wade
Deeper, inhale, hold my breath.
Fully submerged now,
I ask myself: how
Can such beauty cause one’s death?

The flickering flame,
It hisses your name,
Spells it out in thin grey smoke.
The room is cold now –
I ask myself: how
Will this fix the love I broke?

I am a downpour;
You wanted much more…
After all, you were a fire.
Tried to douse your flame
With some of my rain,
But could not douse desire.
this is an alouette.
Gossamer Nov 2013
Looking back,
I wish I hadn’t yearned for this;
I gave all my Innocence
To unrelenting Reality.

I wish I hadn’t yearned for this;
I gave half my heart
To unrelenting Reality,
And now I’m left with memories.

I gave half my heart
Dangerously close to falling apart
And now I’m left with memories;
I wonder if I could’ve saved myself.

Dangerously close to falling apart;
Why wasn’t I warned at the start?
I wonder if I could’ve saved myself,
Looking back.
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