I walk with an ache in my heart*
and an unsteady beat
beckoning to be heard
outside of the boundaries of my mind.

I am homesick
for places I have not yet been to.

I walk with exhaustion.
From the lack of surprise that surges through the foundations of my surroundings.
Nothing is new.

Therefore

I am homesick
Aching for new beginnings
And excitement
And the feeling of not knowing.

I am homesick.

if my mind
  was
    instead my physical
      appearance
        perhaps
           they would find me more attractive.

it seems I am out of place
filled with vacant conversations
and a weary heart
I'm not suicidal
but
I don't want to breath,
Breathing is thinking
I don't want to think.
I don't want to feel.
it seems I am out of place
and a weary heart and heavy mind are not easily mended with vacant conversations
I'm not suicidal
I just want this void to fill.

I notice the light blonde hairs that gently kiss your arms.
And the way your eyes don't flutter,
how they march.
I notice the way your lips curl so mysteriously, so pure.
And the way you are happy on sun invaded days,
And even more joyous on rain soaked days.
I notice how you embrace your words with care, as if they were made up of silver and gold.
And the way you trip people up with your eyes.
I notice.
I notice everything.

I woke up with my heart beat
                                    ringing in my ears.
And an ache so powerful
                                        I felt smothered.
I dreamt of you-
                                                         Again.

every few months, I try proving myself wrong.
I lay my eyes on someone and make them my center thought.
this time, you are the lucky one.
you are the one who I look for, for lasting conversation.
you are the laugh that I am so deeply wanting to hear for the rest of my days.
your touch is the one that I still feel lingering on my skin even after you have gone.
deep down, I hope that in the process of trying to prove myself wrong, that you would prove that what we have is real... that it is right.
I don't believe in love but I am undeniably in love with the thought of being in love.
so for a few months,
you'll be my lucky one.
you'll be the one I spend my mornings thinking of and my nights wishing to be by your side.
and maybe, I will prove myself wrong.
maybe I won't have to continue finding a new person every few months, to find chemistry with.
maybe the only person I lay eyes on for the rest of time, is you.
perhaps we can prove me wrong.

I am knee deep in my thoughts,
Dazed from the amount of times I have spun around in circles.
Unraveling myself from my minds grasp.
Thinking doesn't control me,
Thinking controls my emotions.
I am knee deep in my thoughts.
Dazed from the amount of air lacking in my system.

You have built a home of pain, love, rage, and utter madness inside of me.
I want you- out.
All of you.

You consume my dreams.
The one escape I have is reality.
How is it that,
you've found a way to consume that too.

I imagine you heaving through heart beats, dreaming of another land.
Perhaps dreaming me up.
Imagining our bodies melting into one another.
I would run my fingers through your hair,
and you would carve a smile onto my face.
I imagine you patiently waiting,
as I do the same.
Perhaps content but eager.
Wondering if we have met eachother or
Wondering if we know eachother.
I imagine pain,
I imagine strength,
I imagine love,
I imagine happiness.

have you noticed

how silent and calm the earth becomes just as the sun sets beyond the horizon

have you noticed

how even when a storm approaches in the morning, birds still fill the air with their lullabies

have you noticed

how low the fog lays as if ready to befriend and swallow up anything in its path

have you noticed  

how everything keeps living
despite all the changes that occur
everyday

have you

I recollect memories of
fear
which surged through my veins,
creating havoc in my mind.
Before relaxing my entire being
I would cover myself completely with my sheets.
In the mindset that if I tried covering myself,
I might save myself from all that lurks in the darkness.

As I grew older.

I recollect the tender feeling of carelessness.
& the boldness that surges my veins, even now.
Before relaxing my entire being,
I make sure to leave my strongest parts out beyond the safety of my sheets,
leaving them vulnerable.
In the mindset that if there is something lurking in the darkness
then hell,
I'll lurk along with it as well.

vacant attempts to breath through frozen lungs.
what would their reaction be if I told them
perhaps
that explains why they tread earths soil so hazily.
perhaps
that explains why they are unamazed by works that should astonish them.

I remember those moments,
when I didn't cry,
I wept.
You would hold me gently but close,
And I would listen to your steady inhales and exhales.
I remember those moments,
Being so amazed.
I am usually the strong one.
And here I lay cradled in your arms,
careless but thankful as to the minutes you've spared for my weakness.
You heal me with just your presence.
I remember our moments,
Remembering makes me forget where I am.
Remembering makes me okay.

I am enthralled with the idea
  of gnawing on thoughts
    complicated enough to transform into thought provoking sentences.

I find comfort in the idea
  that i have been given a chance to care after
    the body in which i have inhabited.

I find my thirsty heart, quenched
  as liquid drills its way through the passages of my
    mouth, throat and body.

I am enthralled with the idea that
  i have been given the opportunity to
   create, own, and explore the depths of my existence.

it's three in the morning and
for the first time in so long,
the silence that rings in my ears doesn't remind me to think of you.
hours ago, i wondered when I would stop thinking-
when I would stop thinking of you.
yet now I feel strong.
now i feel like I could spend
three seconds, minutes, hours
being tortured by the silence and I'd be unphased.
I'd be unaware of you.

if I could meet the younger version of myself
I would spend the day doing nothing more than talking to her.

I would ask her what her view on life is.
I would read her: is she naive? strong-willed?

if I could meet the younger version of myself I would ask her if she believes in love.
I would ask her if there is any underlying pain that eats away at her when no one is around.

If I could meet the younger version of myself I would want to know if she's different.
and if so? how different.
I would do nothing more than learn about her and try to remember what it was like to be her.

I stand at the edge of a bay.
I notice the curls in the water,
and the deformity in my appearance.

I stand in front of a mirror.
I notice the cracks in the glass,
and the deformity in my life.

I stand in awe at myself.
It takes one to know pain,
It takes another to know pain
And still want to drown in it.

how unfortunate is it
that
now
people are more fascinated with the idea of
death
rather than
*life

When the door opens,
spitting rhymes as it creaks ajar
i will stand anxious in hopes that my opportunity has come.

I yearn to live atop a mountain
Overlooking the world.

Life would be quiet.

As I would share company with only but my lonely abode.

I would arise early in the morning to hear the scurrying of animals
and their love to be noticed
and their love to be left alone.

My fear would have stayed back with the door that led me to this.
I would be free.
I would not be imprisoned.
Just as the stars fight through darkness to be seen.
They are not imprisoned either.

When the door opens,
spitting rhymes as it creaks ajar
i will stand anxious in hopes that my opportunity has come.
Nature would suffocate me,
Blurring my old vision,
And defining a new unspeakable vision.

i fall back upon the lashes that have marked my back,
i wonder.
how have i gotten this far?
rewinding back to a time,
seven days worth of tears ago,
i wondered.
how can i not go far, how can i eliminate my existence
in the
most
profound way.
i fall back upon the lashes that have marked my back,
i have fallen
repeatedly.
perhaps life is the hardest to endure,
so
giving up is too easy.
i want to be known for being something,
not doing something.

i won't beg for your attention
but i will seek love
whether it is from you
or whether it isn't.
i won't spend every waking moment drowning in my sad thoughts.
if I can seek love, I will.
whether it is from
a blade,
a drink,
a smoke,
a person,
or God.
i intend on being happy.

Last night I got drunk,
And although I couldn't think
I kept thinking of you.
My mind replaying the short span of time our mouths latched together
As we spoke words that meant nothing.
I was thrilled,
I was sad,
I was gone.

I've never felt what it is to be in love.
And although I long for it,
I don't want it bad enough to force anything that is not true.
But
I am prepping myself.

They will ask me "how did you know you were in love?"

Most people would say,
"It's unexplainable"

But me?

I'd allow my lips to part
Revealing a deep intimate smile.

How did I know?
And I'd explain.

I knew I was in love when I felt a happiness that made me feel alive.
It's one thing to just live,
But it's another to feel- alive.
I had never felt something so crisp.
When the sun is setting and suddenly
The whole sky turns into a canvas,
It's that unbelievable feeling that
someone must have used a palette to paint colors across the sky
and
It leaves you breathless.
Falling in love leaves you breathless.
It is unexpected,
like the spectrum of colors that hit your vision.

How did I know?
And I'd explain.

I've waited so long for something that I thought would be unexplainable.
So when I found something that could be explained through the help of little aspects in life,
I knew.
I just knew.

I fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.
My body vulnerable and curled up against his.
Relaxation and peace flooded my body.

I haven't been this happy in a long time

Being beside someone who's intentions are pure for you,
Sleeping alongside someone who's feelings are mutual,
That is happiness.

*That is love

I am not one to romanticize pain and sadness but the minute sorrow arrives at my doorstep,
I welcome him in with open arms.

I am not one to continuously arise in the morning with a heavy heart
nor do I enjoy walking around with a weight on my shoulders,
but I still find myself becoming less motivated to discover the green grass on the other side.

I desire joy far more than one would expect,
but I still live day to day merely surviving.

I do not romanticize pain and sadness,
but the minute sorrow seeps into the crevices of my life,
I make no efforts to extinguish it.

Everything is calm.
I lay weightless staring up at the ceiling above.
The storm has retreated
And the sun has squeezed between the clouds, revealing its identity.
The windows are open,
Allowing a cool breeze to fight
through the nets.
It smells like earth.
I inhale and close my eyes as the only noises that intrude are those from nature.
The trees stirring,
The wind yelping
In hopes of being heard,
People laughing,
Leaves crunching,
The sun boiling,
The stars hiding dimly,
Everything.
After soaking in my surroundings,
I open my eyes.
I am completely and utterly amazed.
Because for once it seems that...
Everything is calm.

I don't desire a fairytale story,
I desire pure love.
A love that makes you want to dance all night.
A love that makes you want to explore and venture.
I desire a love that comes so effortlessly,
and leaves
only to arrive back with more.
I desire a love that is so authentic.
I could wait patiently however long it may take,
for it to reach my doorstep.
And acceptingly, I would invite it in.



i.v.

my thoughts beckon to me-
they command to be heard.
the constant chatter of lullabies that trace my dreams are nightmares.

i find it quite humorous.

our mind is our own,
we have full ownership.
yet.
our mind owns us.
we tell ourselves we cannot be controlled, we can only control.
but.
our mind slices our veins allowing us to contemplate the outcome of every single drop of blood evacuating the premises of our body,
our mind pushes us
to over think
constructing a maze,
succeed or fail.
either way,
our minds beckon us.
to believe
we only have two choices
life
or
death.

He traced his fingers along my body
With a curled smile
That was filled with lust
And
With eager eyes
That were filled with acceptance and amazement

To think
That someone finds beauty in
What I hate about myself

And

To know
That someone is attracted to not only
The body
But the mind

the one who stares back at me in the mirror,
seems unfamiliar.
the type of unfamiliarity,
that is familiar.
it eats at me.
until I have disintegrated from the lack of rememberance.
from lack of knowing
what should be familiar.

imagine,
someone could look at you and for a split second imagine an entire life with you.
imagine,
someone you know could love you in a way that is so pure, selfless, and youthful that it is almost too good to be true.
imagine,
you might be the last thought in someone's mind at night.
how honorable it would be to be someone's thought.
to be someone's own version of perfection.
most of us have someone who looks at us in these ways and most of us
don't even know.

If you know hurt,
you know the late nights and prolonged thoughts.
If you know hurt,
you know how quick your muscles tense and how difficult they loosen.
If you know hurt,
You know the constant emptiness that seeps through the windows of your soul and lounges behind the layer of your eyes.
If you know hurt,
You know numb.
You know breathing, but you know suffocating.
You know hurt.

the first time we are introduced to new surroundings,
our eyes are wild with curiousity.
the first time we meet someone,
our eyes are starving
ready to devour the very human being in hopes that this someone might finally give us life.

the first time we are introduced to life,
we are anew, we are naive, we are excited, we are not who we are when we start to realize the obstacles that will cross our paths.

After we are introduced to new surroundings,
After we meet someone for the first time,
After we are introduced to life itself,
Our eyes lose their
Curiousity
Excitement
Hunger
and all else.
Our eyes turn stale from realization.

Everything looks hopeful at first sight.


If first glances are what it takes to be overcome with hopefulness, hunger, excitement and curiousity,
Perhaps, it would be most ideal to see everything in the first perspective.

during the moments that we spent apart,
I noticed space seeping behind the walls of your eyes,
blurring your vision.

During the moments that we spent apart,
I could feel my mind begin to stale
As I was stuck with beckoning thoughts seeking a lost love.

during our lasts moments,
All became silent.

We stood at opposite sides of a bay for hours,
Watching as the water flowed on and on.
Understanding that life will go on,
it must.
Our silence was overcome
with an overwhelming feeling of acceptance,
as we slowly retreated.

Walking our different directions,
Walking away from the bay and all of it's teachings.

I've had trouble lately, confronting reality.
I have no idea how things are meant to work out.

I guess that is the beauty of life, sometimes you aren't meant to know or understand how everything will work out in the end-
it just does.

so I'm hoping this is one of those situations.
one where I may be in an unbelievable amount of stress, but
everything will work out.

I hope that before I know it,
I'll be wondering why I even stressed at all.
I'll wonder why I worry.
And I'll understand why everything panned out the way it did, and I'll appreciate how things turn out.

I hope that through this,
I will learn how to confront reality.

the leaves squint at me,
while the mountains befriend me.
the guitar strums to the beat of my steps.

Consequence is overrated.
Consequence is unnecessary.

I am content this way.
The echoes of those who begged to leave along with my existence, haunts me.

I outgrew that town.
I outgrew consequence.
I was embroidered to become a part of
this.

I used to be convinced that we were made for one person.
I used to believe that one love was so powerful that it would keep someone investing more and more of their heart until there was nothing left to give.
But now, after 18 years of life I see that love is not constricted to one person.
One heart can be made for more than one person.
In the past four years,
love has found me in three different vessels.
Three different vessels have taken and given me nameless things that I would not have been given from anyone else.
So now I wonder,
how much of my heart will be left once I meet the love meant for the rest of time?
Or will I actually meet a long lasting love or continue to find love in different people?
How many vessels are my heart made for?

a year ago, i spent most nights engulfing myself in meadows and forests strictly dreamed up through words.
but today,
i have noticed that words don't flow as easily out of my mind;
as i have no inspiration to write like i did before.
tears don't fall as frequently
and i am starting to wonder if you become less susceptible to pain as you age.
i don't stay up late thinking of things that my mind would have drowned me in, a year ago.
i have accepted the changes of early adulthood and i feel less naive and youthful.
I remember being younger and feeling so misunderstood by adults.
"I mean, they used to be my age" I would think, "they should understand more"
but now i see it
now i feel it.
They mature, whether they meant to or not they
matured and forgot what it was to be young.
And for most, they didn't even see that they changed but i saw it.
I am seeing it everyday.
I see it in myself.
I saw it when i picked up a pencil and minutes passed where no meadows and forests had been dreamed up.
I felt it when i was wrapped in a cocoon of blanket and instead of sadness crippling me, i lay thinking of my next pay check and how i was going to spread it out over two weeks evenly.
now, everyone ages in their own way.
everyone loses their youthfulness in different forms.
i noticed through my lack of creativity and inspiration to write.
and in a sense, i am relieved.
because i don't expend energy over things that don't matter,
i breathe easier now,
i see things clearly,
i am more level-headed.
and even though i may be the adult that doesn't understand the child fully,
i haven't forgotten what it is to be young.
as i search for youth constantly
and pick at my brain until i dream up worlds as easily as i had a year ago so that while i age, i don't forget.
youthfulness is beautiful but i believe aging is too.