I am twenty-three and I crave serendipity. I crave the inability to allow minor things to define me. I crave early morning coffee, in-depth conversations, and productivity. I want to create, mold, make, then re-shape my circuitry. I want clarity when it's cloudy and unity when I'm lonely. I want to be sixteen shades of blue in a room of maroon. I want to be curious and cultured. I want no beginning nor end, only middle ground — a wallflower with a wildflower's spirit infinitely abloom. I want to be silly and sappy. Witty and wishful. I want to write saccharine sentiments on mirrors in cheap lipstick and surround myself with inspiring oddities. I want scavenger hunts, a marathon of documentaries, a collection of melancholy melodies, and crisp hikes through forests talking with the trees. I want fog in the dead of night and your warmth till first morning's light.

I am twenty-four (soon to be) and I want to be unafraid.

black coffee
6 a.m.
old garages
tomato sandwiches
toy planes still in the plastic

Margaritaville on casette tape
Sunday's are car dealership days
tabasco sauce on every dish
two-bite pinchers when we were kids  
every boy's name is Mitch

In desperation
To fill this empty *****
I invented you

Close your eyes
Take a deep breath
Let it out
Open you eyes
Look them straight in the face
Tell them you love them
Walk away without turning back*


If the person you love is making you feel like you're being held underwater for an ungodly amount of time, here's your sign. Do yourself a favor and let go. It doesn't matter how much you love them because I guarantee they don't love you as much as you love them. They don't care about you as much as you care about them. They're a leech, ******* out every ounce of energy you have left. You don't need them. If it hurts more to tell them you love them than it does to think about what it would be like if you lost them, you need to let go. You need to rip yourself off them like a bandaid. It's going to hurt, but you'll be okay. As a matter of fact, you'll be better off than you were. I promise.*



                                 B.S.

When did darkness become negative?
It's the light that blinds.

Our lives are just like books
Filled with numerous chapters
We may not like what’s inside
But turning the page and
Continuing the story
Is the only way to move on

Am I okay?

I cry every night,
And can't breathe most days.

I sometimes want to die,
And feel buried by all the lies.

I have a broken heart,
And trust issues.

But also,

I smile at the little things,
And laugh for no reason.

I have hope in my heart,
And light in my eyes.

I am getting stronger,
And I will keep trying.

So:
Am I okay?
No.

Will I be okay?
**Yes

Blue lakes gave the glass a crystal world of looking
The ocean seems blue
It can be rough water
Dream water
Red water
Zero water too
Aimless
It's time to shine
In the dead of night
Flow into a delta and find its goal
Its rivers and tributaries meander, broken down, broken up, algae
It carries soil, silt, sand, streams, silent
Silent
It is created, evolved, reincarnated, now
Rolling with the tides and the moon
It's not leaving
It will not speak
It doesn’t go far
But the distance is too long to walk
It runs in Winter
Slows in Spring
Dangerous in Summer
I hear it sing
Drum up a current
It's glass
It can flow
It can pass
Under bridges where cars and trains are electric
It waters the land
Straining until pure
Removing all the lures
It is a flurry
It is fast
Fast
I see it, hear it, I feel it too
It's been green, brown, pink, orange
Red
It's been drained
Remained
Stained
Up close it's clear
But at a distance
It's blue
I see the air, the moon, the hands, the truth
Breathing in
The ocean's blue