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Sep 5 · 149
Tread Wisely Now - 10w
Moonflower Sep 5
The more you say it
the less truthful it
appears.
if you're over it, be over it.
Aug 28 · 18
Je Ne Regrette Rien
Moonflower Aug 28
There is nothing to be sad about,
nothing to cry about.
I have spent the last three and a half years mourning a ghost
and I am released from the shackles of nostalgia.
It's alright that the version of myself you hold in your head is someone I do not know.
It's alright that you felt our time together had come to an end before I even knew it.
It's alright that you are bitter and sad and have pushed the thought of me even further away.
It's alright.
I know that you once felt something greater than us both and you no longer do and that is totally okay.
Instead of excusing myself from my keyboard at work to cry in private,
I am accepting your feelings as objectively as I can.
It's honestly redundant at this point to keep talking or writing or thinking about this.
It's pointless to say that I will keep you tucked away in my heart and head for the rest of my life because I refuse to live out a version of our ending
where I am the sad ex-girlfriend who should have learned to get it right the first dozen times
and you are the chauvinistic, careless debonair who is living his best life free of guilt.
No,
No.
If telling yourself that you stopped loving me a long time ago because I was easy to grow distant from makes you feel like you didn't abandon me,
so be it.
If lying to yourself and pretending that you didn't tell me you did not want to leave when I showed you the neon red exit sign of our relationship makes you feel like it was your choice, let it be.
I have spent years racking my brain over and over and over and over and over again
sitting uncomfortably with the weight of my own decisions and
questioning whether or not I made the right choices
and I am telling you,
I am done.
I know you'll read this with forced indifference
I know you'll tell yourself that you're happy it's over and have been for three and a half years
I know you've forgotten the poems you wrote about me
and the feelings you felt when you felt them
but I know you.
And I'm sure that both terrifies and annoys you
but it's the truth.
Live out the rest of your life dodging blame and hopping from one person to the next
and I promise, you will feel as empty as your home.
Aug 27 · 919
I Care So I Lose - 10w
Moonflower Aug 27
I was right all along,
I did love you more.
Moonflower Jul 18
I'm swinging from limbs of tree to tree
you're the moss bed beneath me
if loving you is giving you the space you need
I'll do my best to not intervene
written whilst camping in north carolina on 4/20/19
Apr 10 · 196
Mount Olympus
Moonflower Apr 10
In the springtime between the everglades and mountainside
I have talks with the sun about moving on
but between the downtown city streets and 7:54pm sunsets,  
I don't know if I can.

In the summertime I find myself between the trees and the glow of light against your face until very late into the evening
driving down back roads
and talking about the past,
smoking funny plants
and speaking of our dreams.

You're lost and you don't know it,
don't worry, I am too.
There are too many things to say
and not enough time
as my thoughts collapse over the other in three's and two's.
entering the bacchanal with my own elixirs in my pockets,
the chorus of voices collide against one another into a harmonious babble.

it's 6:48pm where I am,
the sun is setting on your side of town.
if these roads could bend until they led me to where you are,
I still don't think I'd follow along.

I lost my heart to a bear trap
while searching for yours in the grove,
freckle-spotted strawberries
and cracked jars of honey
littered the path for miles on end.

I followed your gaze out of the wooden corridor and found cherry blossoms tucked between folds of linen as I greeted the morn.
Your grin is so fixed that
I look to it to find the humor
even if I'm the joke,
and I think of the way your eyes looked
when you were too stunned to speak; hand to mouth,
until I fall asleep and meet you in my lucid dreams.
Mar 9 · 397
I spy something holy
Moonflower Mar 9
come back, come back,
come back from the dead,
before the acid went straight
to your head.

come here, come close,
come hold me again,
the way you used to when
you were my friend.

you're near, you're far,
you're somewhere between,
you're hidden in shadows
and leaving unseen.

i feel the pull when
i'm thinking alone
it sticks to my teeth
and clings to each bone.
Feb 11 · 7
room 221
Moonflower Feb 11
there aren't enough words to explain how battered and bruised I am.
I know this entire time our relationship was nothing but an ****** for you, that saying you were eternally mine and claiming me as yours and no one else's existed merely in words, that you never respected me enough to honor me as the only one you were intimate with. I know this entire time you lied straight to my face and never once thought about how you were affecting me, you never shared with me the version of yourself I know I deserved. I saw you in your drunken, half-functioning state and loved you so much I refused to let you die at your own hand. I know what I felt for you is something that is beyond your current comprehension,
and despite your lack of cherishing that, I really was on your side. Despite what your mother tells you, despite what we made each other feel, I loved you more than I ever loved myself. I gave you my undivided attention for as long as I had you. I know out of an ocean of words, these will not be the ones you remember the clearest, but I want you to know that I deserved to be treated better. I deserved your efforts and patience and understanding
and I never received it. I blamed myself a lot but I've grown enough to learn that a lack of love isn't a reflection of what someone deserves, it's a direct reflection of how much love someone else is capable of giving. I know these words are probably flying past you, but there won't be a need to listen anymore.
I saw you and ignored the background noise.
I am letting you go now.
Grow into the person I know you are; the person you see when you think of the best version of yourself.
Work hard,
be smart,
keep strong.
Goodbye now.
Moonflower Jan 8
i don't know what to say
i don't know what to feel
i don't want to write about this
i don't want to feel this anymore.

i miss you
and i don't know why
the words don't even sound right
im lost inside my head
i'm lost inside my head.

i miss feeling like i had friends in this city
i want to move away
i don't want to hear your voice in my head anymore
i don't want to remember the way we kissed
i want to forget you
i want to move on.
Jan 4 · 1.6k
smoke clouds
Moonflower Jan 4
you were a wound that wouldn't stop bleeding,
i was the gauze volunteering itself.
i don't know why i never accepted that you only ever put yourself first;
i guess i thought if i loved you fiercely enough you would see that i was worth placing at least second.
i think of our softer moments and it takes all i have to keep from unravelling,
even though they only lasted as long as the summer did.
sitting beside you in your hospital bed late june,
i know now that you just needed a distraction from your detox,
and that it wouldn't have made a difference if I'd just stayed home.

it's 7:25 in the morning and i'm outside smoking a cigarette beside grass so cold that it appears blue.
nothing will rid me of my thoughts reluctantly drifting to you.
thought takes shape in the form of smoke clouds
billowing out from my lungs on this quiet morning.
i realize now what little concern i have for my own well-being.
you never warned me of how abruptly you would change;
i was the poor ******* who saw your flaws and decided to keep loving you anyway.

i think of the feeling of when we kiss and how i can almost taste your soul
and so the breakdown begins.
i loved you so tenderly.
i remember the spring.
i guess our moments were just moments to you,
but to me, they were the beginning of our life together.
blegh
Jul 2018 · 1.4k
fuck, now i'm crying at work
Moonflower Jul 2018
Time has a very peculiar way of bending when our eyes meet.
I'm unsure why
but it always has;
regardless of our status.
The chatter and noise of public places
all seems to quiet down to an unsure hush
with the acknowledgment of your presence.

Stumbling awkwardly on the line between what is acceptable to say as an ex-girlfriend and ex-friend leaves me speechless
I don't know what else to say other than to wish you well on your journey.
If I could go back to a time we were far more careful with one another, I would for nostalgia's sake.
I think we could agree you wouldn't do the same.
The past is the past and has separated us for a reason
but we were once Pangea, as you used to put it.

Even with the acceptance of you no longer being my partner,
I had hoped we would remain cordial.
Your bitterness is disguised as indifference
and I'd forgotten how vast your capacity for irrationality was.

I know I sound angry,
but I promise I'm not.
I'm content in knowing my pride does not outweigh my desire to be happy anymore.

Truly, I thought you to be god-like.
The first time I heard you speak
I pretended I wasn't listening as I wrote;
you were reading a riddle to our creative writing teacher that you'd written as an assignment for another class.
I remember being impressed by the way you crafted your sentences, the way you'd sewn your words together like a fine quilt.
I was entranced, naïve, and sixteen-years-old.
You were beautiful, troubled, and fast.

When I was merely nineteen,
I was afraid of how charismatic and dishonest you were.
My insecurities were amplified by your lack of reassurance which caused us to grow further apart,
blame one another for wallowing,
become exasperated,
and eventually, storm off.
In doing so,
we lost sight of what initially brought us together as friends in high school.

If I would have known that our friendship would deteriorate to this,
I would have never invited you over to help me decorate my bedroom.
I would have never allowed you to sleep beside me in bed.
I would have never kissed you back...

In blindly following my foolish heart, I lost one of the greatest bonds I'd ever known without even realizing it.
but in retrospect, I'm glad I was there.

I'd give anything for us to be able to talk as friends once more, as far-fetched as that seems.
Maybe I'm an idiot for wanting to repair a lost friendship,
maybe I'm still as naïve as I was then.
but in my wildest dreams, I never would have imagined we would one day hold animosity toward one another.

To put it plainly,
this *****.
this ***** a whole lot,
but such is life.

There is so much I wish I could tell you
but
you can't hear me anymore.
Jun 2018 · 195
hospital visits 10w
Moonflower Jun 2018
The irony of smoking a cigarette outside of the ICU.
Moonflower Apr 2018
I know it's damaging
to compare every little thing he does
To every little thing you did
but how is it as young as we were
we were more mature than this?
I sang for you alone,
I sang for you alone.
I don't know where you are;
I don't know where I am,
aside from this hospital bed.
I can't wait for this to be over,
I can't wait for the end.
I can't wait to come home.
I can't wait to be home.
post surgery blues
Dec 2017 · 132
Untitled
Moonflower Dec 2017
I do not care if you have made a home within my bones
Or if you believe the key to finding your happiness is hidden beneath my tongue.
If you take your stay for granted,
I will tear that **** to the ******* ground.
Nov 2017 · 364
The Greenest Health
Moonflower Nov 2017
It's alright to be a cog if you adore the clock you're ticking for.
May 2017 · 388
Untitled
Moonflower May 2017
I want the feeling of coming home from a camping trip and climbing onto my still-made bed, too tired to climb inside
I want to smell pine and smoke and hard work on my skin
I want cosmic moments where I feel my body take a quick step outside of itself to appreciate what is going on from every angle
To say, "Yes, this is happening at this very moment, and at this very moment I couldn't possibly feel more alive."
I want to bask in the sun and bathe in moonlight
I want to feel entirely complete on my own as I once did.
I want to feel complete
Apr 2017 · 324
Chest is Swelling 10w
Moonflower Apr 2017
Am I actually in love
Or am I just addicted
Head in hand,
I hear the hum
Jan 2017 · 242
Growing pains
Moonflower Jan 2017
Falling quickly into a pattern of relearning and forgiving myself
for what I did not know then

I am still learning to be unashamedly human
and fight through the crashing waves of guilt
until the sea slows to gentle rest
and I arrive to a lagoon in paradise
they're always there
some are just better hidden than others

Drifting to shore
the sand is warm
I look to the sky and see you

In retrospect,
I loved you more,
Presently speaking, I still do

But listen,
I'm doing things I only dreamed of while at your side
I'm accepting the past and letting go of what I cannot change
and I'm still not where I want to be
but I'm sure as hell not where I once was

I find myself wondering if the home we built has crumbled entirely to dust
or if the keys have been impulsively tossed to the wild
along with every other one

I've stopped trying to find you in the chaos
and have begun to discover myself within the calm
this is all that is left. There really is no other way to move on
Dec 2016 · 335
Relapse
Moonflower Dec 2016
I miss watching you board and worrying needlessly
when you'd bomb hills
I miss singing together at the top of our lungs as we walked downtown
I miss watching you play minecraft and noting each new addition to
the structures you built
I miss how young we were
I feel as though I've aged a decade since we ended
So much has changed
we are in completely different worlds
I don't want to believe there is a more extraordinary love out there waiting to be discovered but there's gotta be
you don't love me anymore
we aren't meant to be
I don't want to stop loving you
but you've got me beat
moving on is the only thing left to do
but what I feel for you is as certain as the rising sun
the flashbacks come like flash floods and
I'm up to my neck in memories of you
Dec 2016 · 10
Take me to a betting man
Moonflower Dec 2016
some days I find myself repeating the words, "it feels like summer," with a smile on my face and a current rushing through my chest and warmth creeping through my limbs
On these days, I am invincible.
On these days, death should have such nerve.

Take me to a betting man,
I'll show him who's the luckier one;
I'll count by two's and sing the blues
and shine like a marble in the sun

other days I feel very quiet and very small,
like someone has taken every vertebrae in my spine and kept it for themselves.
unfinished?
Dec 2016 · 318
Satin
Moonflower Dec 2016
when you awaken at 2:30 am and you step outside to smoke,
and everything is quiet,
and everyone on the bit of earth where you are is fast asleep
and nothing is pressing
and everything is still... and soft,
these are the kind of private moments I yearn for the most in life

I wish to live in a sea of satin;
with my brain as a cushion and my thoughts as the breeze

gently rocking, with sleep weighing heavily on my lids,

gently drifting, within dreams and prisms and visions of warmth
3:14 am
Nov 2016 · 205
The Stirring
Moonflower Nov 2016
Half awake at 25 past 11
I think of places to **** as I crane my neck to see past the memories that have revisited without phoning ahead;

Well, this was certainly unexpected.

What good will reserving the mental space do?

I suppose for my art,
I reason as I hold open the door to the floor space of my brain a bit more wide.
All at once they come rushing in.
Laughing,
Crying,
Excitedly jumping on the couch.

Some have already made it clear they are staying for a while as they unpack and begin to sort through their details.
Staring blankly at the unfolding scene before me, I notice each individual memory,
ones I thought I'd forgotten,
ones that never actually left,
and gently close the door.
I join them on the floor and brush the hair out of an early memory's eyes.
What are you doing here?

For as deeply as my love runs for them,
there isn't a good reason for their visit
and they never offer a solid answer,
only point to a more tender memory to explain.

I try to think of my own reasons for such a pronounced visit;

And in truth,
I have no idea,
And I am exhausted,
So I just sit back and watch them play.

Flashes of meeting for the first time to pushing and pulling in what was once our bed,
I can't help but notice that for the first time in a long time,
My mind feels like a full house, a happy home.

Though nostalgia sits quietly on the floor,
Memories are bouncing off the walls and spiraling all about.

Amidst the laughter,

Between the crying,

I try to find purpose in their presence.

I try to find meaning in remembering.

Though I haven't quite got it figured out,
There is hope.

I saw you in a lucid dream
And I swear, it felt like you were awake, too.

Your eyes were bloodshot red and watery and everything became quiet when I felt your forehead.

There is nothing to be found in glorifying the past
But in my dreams,
We are picking up the shattered pieces and arranging them to create the most beautiful mosaic I've ever seen,
In my dreams, we are swimming with fish beneath crashing waves and colliding onto the softest sand.

From the gutter to the windowpane,
From the first light of day to the fading glow of night,
We are laughing,
And we are crying,
And we are howling at the moon.
A metaphor for reminiscing-- even when you shouldn't.
Nov 2016 · 640
5:57 am
Moonflower Nov 2016
Sometimes it takes a while for me to become aware of the tension I am
holding in my shoulders and face when I am feeling anxious,
and while I stretch my rubberband body, I wonder what else I have
been entirely oblivious to
and how much more at ease I would be if I discovered it.

I believe there are several aspects to the meaning of life;
One of them being mastering the art of letting go, as cliché as that sounds.

I think it's about building solid relationships
and letting go of the feeble ones that inhibit us from blossoming into
our true selves,
clinging to them as we may.


In the mind, time is relative.
It is a spiral,
It is the measurement of growing distance.

Sometimes the things we feel aren't a sign, they aren't proof of
anything,
they are, in a literal sense,
feelings.

They demand to be felt at once or not at all, but they legitimately
mean nothing.


Sometimes I feel a desperate gnawing in my chest when I think of
the people I no longer know,
when I imagine how each of their lives has continued to pan out
without
me;

when the truth creeps up on me like a shady ******* and I realize that

no, this is not entirely my fault,

but yes, I had a part to play in the chaos;

I realize how wrong I was.

The brain gives way,
and the brain heals itself.

Let it heal
Oct 2016 · 1.0k
Untitled
Moonflower Oct 2016
I want to be so full of light
and so full of love
that I forget
every
single
time
I agonized over misfortune,

that I can feel my heart
swell with love for the people
who have mercilessly caused me pain-

the ones who have,

and the ones who will.

I wish to be so full of light
and forgiveness
that I may let go with grace;
that those who didn't know any better
may learn from my mistakes
and may be inspired by my growth,
by the love blossoming from my heart
and extending from my hands.
If every leaf I've turned was collected together into one massive pile,
I'd have an evergreen forest
flourishing with life.
Every mistake,
every challenge,
every heartache
was a learning experience.
All of this
was an experience.

So you've messed up,
so you've made a complete fool of yourself-
you are human,
forgive yourself.

Learn,

Grow.

Everything that has happened, from the moment your feet hit the floor in the morning,
to the minute you were late to work,
was meant to.

I promise,


it was meant to.
Aug 2016 · 226
I accept
Moonflower Aug 2016
Less human,
More soul,
This is the way
Things must flow.

Quick thoughts
Like raindrops,
This is the art
Of letting go
Aug 2016 · 613
Can you hear me?
Moonflower Aug 2016
I've been sorting through old works and stumbled upon this one written in October 2015. Though things are entirely different now, this one hits a tender nerve, which I think is beautiful in its own way

A letter to my old best friend

You may not want to hear this from me, I understand.
But I'm going to allow the words to escape.
Fair-warning.

I'm sorry things aren't going smoothly in California. A lot has changed, I'm sure everyone just needs time to adjust.
They care, I'm sure they just don't know how to help.
I'm sorry you're trying to find ways to fill the emptiness and it's leaving you bored. Boredom can be dangerous.
I bet you feel like Milo, stuck inside on a rainy day.
I hope you wake up one morning and without realizing it, you are filled with peace, joy, and curiosity as you discover your new surroundings.
I really do.
And I assure you, you've not been forgotten.
Not by me, not by anyone here.
I'm not sure of their reasoning, but I've kept my distance so you could walk the streets of San Diego without feeling the weight of the people missing you back home.
Also, because I can't shake the thought of not meaning **** to you anymore-- why would you care to hear from me?
It's shrug-worthy, but you are thought of every single day.

I read your poem and it resonated with me until the lines about emotional abuse in regards to our relationship past.
I am sorry you feel as though you were emotionally abused while we were together.
Your feelings are valid, your thoughts are valid, but from the bottom of my heart, I can't agree.
I am adding vinegar to this story caked in mold.
Forgive the smell.

During our relationship, I would end things because I thought I was doing what was best for the both of us.
Though my intentions were pure, it was undeniably impulsive of me
and I am truly sorry for being so **** fickle.
I left because of the red flags I saw-- a defense mechanism used by trauma survivors of abuse-- I left to protect myself from someone whom I loved deeply but was indifferent, manipulative, and passive aggressive at times.
I went back because of how much good I know that I know there was and still is in you.
Your faults do not define you.
I loved you at your worst. At your best. Especially on the days you couldn't describe how you were feeling.
You didn't need to tell me because I understood.

I left to protect my heart and so you could find someone who would make your eyes light up just from walking into the room, because I knew I couldn't.
Seeing you smile at everyone and seeing my smile met with your bored eyes, I'll admit it kept me up at night. I'll admit it kept me silently crying from room to room.
The rejection I'd feel from someone who would make it clear he wanted me only when he would **** me.
Lights out, keep my distance, repeat again tomorrow.
It seemed there wasn't an end to the lonely nights spent by your side.

It was my choice to stay in such an environment for the time that I did, I don't regret it.
I stayed for the days we were in-sync. The days we would look across the room at each other with a knowing glance. The days we would walk for miles and laugh along the way. The nights we would drink and get so dizzy as the room spun, with nothing to keep us grounded but our lips pressed against one another. The nights we would undress and lie in bed, talking, sharing stories, kissing at one another's skin.

****, now I'm remembering too much.

The point is
I put you first.
Forget my own mental health, yours mattered more.
You didn't ask me to, I wanted to. I wanted you. I wanted to be your friend.
If that is emotional abuse on my end, please enlighten me as to how.
Because I'm still feeling the neglect yet still hold you lightly in my head.

I left to pursue someone who I thought deserved a second chance.
I was convinced you were bored and didn't really care who I ended up with, that you were with me out of convenience.
I felt unwanted.
Later on, after we got back together, you said if I ever went back to him, that would be it.
I understood.
After we broke up, I hooked up with him.
The same night you slept with someone else.
I didn't hold it over your head; we weren't together. But you held it over mine.
To be honest, I think it's ****.
I think it's unfair.
For me to forgive you for going even further than I did and for you to not reciprocate.
Your drunkenness is not an excuse, my dear.

You slept with someone else and I forgave you.

I don't need your forgiveness, in truth, I did you no wrong-- we weren't together when we ventured out to different people-- but it would be nice to move forward without this ink splotch mucking up the clarity of things.

Once I'm convinced of something, it's hard to unwind the coils, unbend the metal, and begin again, you may be similar, only you'd know.
But I think you'd learn a lot from this if you took a step back and slipped into my shoes for a moment. Really reviewed our time together with a fine-toothed comb.

My error was in not taking care of myself, trying to take care of someone else, and doing a **** job at both.
This year was one of the most exhausting 12 months in my life. My physical and mental health took quite a beating.
I wasn't in the place to tend to the issues I kept ignoring that I'm digging up now for my own sanity.
I feel better now,
and I hope once things settle down and this depression fades, you will too.

I want to humbly and sincerely apologize from the depths of my being for ever hurting you.
I am sorry for the times I woke up in a bad mood from not sleeping well the night before.
I am so sorry for not just walking away when I was irritable so you wouldn't have to remember it.
It is over and done with and I am pouring water over the embers of what we used to be,
but still, I am sorry.

And I forgive you-- even if you aren't sorry.
I thought about listing the things you've done, the ways you've hurt me, but pressed backspace instead.
It doesn't matter anymore.
It's forgiven.
It is now forgotten.

I respect that our views of the events that transpired between us clash, I respect that things might not ever be the same again.
But I'll be ****** if I didn't wish that we were given one more chance by the Universe to get it right.

You are still someone I love deeply, someone I would take several bullets for, someone who-- if I have children in the future-- will be spoken of to them.
I will tell them of our adventures, of our journeys, of the people we met along the way.
I will tell them of a young man I once knew who revealed to me what it meant to selflessly love someone,
and when to walk away.
I will tell them of the story that you are.
A breathing legend.
My old best friend.
I hope you are doing well
Aug 2016 · 601
It's okay to "fuck up"
Moonflower Aug 2016
And I don't get tired until half past
four
I rise with The sun, I fall asleep with the fading moon.
The birds are chirping, I am awake.
I push these thoughts out of my head
And I don't meet your eyes until they are sincere because it's too ******* hard.
It is too ******* hard.
It's 2:07 am and I'm wide awake
Is this a poem or a dream
I can hardly tell
My eyes are playing tricks on me,
shadows and lights, they're not really there.
Or are they?
We know so little yet think we've conquered it all.
Well, if knowledge is power then we're
all in the dark, yelling with shaky voices until
they're convinced we're right.
It's half past 2 and I'm floating in a haze,
the dim light peeks out from beneath my door.
I have come to the conclusion that they are
those who give a **** and those who surely don't.
Always choose the ones who do.
May 4th, 2016
Aug 2016 · 401
Battle of the Metaphors
Moonflower Aug 2016
I often find myself contemplating
that which is good and evil and
have more times than not seen both
where neither ought to have been seen.

    because a rose is just a rose,
            and a thorn is just a thorn.

   One does not represent all that is
      sweet and pure;
            and the other does not
       represent all that is painful and
                evil.
  
   The budding rose is just a flower,
        and the sharp thorns simply
             protect its stem.

   Yes, there is meaning in everything,
           but not always negative
                 vs positive
Written during a very peculiar time in July
Jul 2016 · 914
Children
Moonflower Jul 2016
Sometimes I like to imagine what it'd be like if we had met when we were 6.
I imagine us both meeting at the playground;
Playing tag,
Climbing things,
Catching bugs.
A world of wonder for two young souls where anything is possible.
I imagine a great dragon breaking free from beneath the ground and swirling in the air,
I imagine a forest fairy who reveals herself only to those who have the capacity to believe and keep her existence a secret.
I imagine asking you,
"Wait, so are we friends?"
The way I would after playing with someone new for the first time,
and I imagine you nodding your head the way children do and saying, "Yes."
An excerpt from a poem in my sketchbook/journal
Jul 2016 · 994
Revelations
Moonflower Jul 2016
Only the arrogant believe they've learned all there is to know;
while the wise are humbly aware that there is still so much to learn.

I am learning that most things still work even after the light has gone out

And things that once meant everything can suddenly mean nothing once they are gone.

Shake me up and get me uncomfortable,
Nothing ever bloomed without pushing through the dirt.

There is freedom in vulnerability

And there is strength in succumbing to that which is greater than you.

Fear exists only in the mind

And wealth is entirely subjective.

I'd rather be a toothless, grinning *** than a heartless shell of a human quickly walking past.

So tell me, what is it that keeps you up at night?

I am far more interested in learning the things you admit to yourself during your quietest,
most intimate moments
than your filtered public thoughts.

Tell me,
Shall we agree to disagree-
That the heart is a wild muscle and the brain holds the reins.
Shall we agree to disagree-
Forgiveness and acceptance are two entirely different things.
Shall we agree
Or shall we disagree,
As long as we're still debating,
You can tell me the sun is purple and I will hold onto every word.
This poem will make sense to very few
Mar 2016 · 6
Catalyst
Moonflower Mar 2016
I am slowly coming to terms with
the fact that all I was to you
was a way to pass the time
and that every effort to prove to you my love
and gain yours in return

every

last

one

was all for naught.
Because regardless of how long I held you during a panic attack
or how many tears of yours I wiped away
or how much pride I had to set aside to get you to look at me again,
I would have still found her name in your messages
and I would have still found myself collapsing onto the **** floor.

These days we don't talk much,
we exist separately in our lives
that were once so entangled
we'd forget the last time we were apart.
And I think that is truly a shame.
To witness what's become of a friendship
I was once so proud of.
Never mind our failed relationship,
I've lost a friend.

You're doing just fine.
I am angry.
I am disappointed.
I am so frustrated I've been expending energy
just to rid myself of the burning in my gut.

Screaming,

Running,

Sobbing into my shaking hands.



I've not forgotten a thing.
Feb 2016 · 1.3k
Untitled
Moonflower Feb 2016
Sunrises of marmalade,
Glowing neon purple signs.

We run until we catch stitches in our sides and knives in our teeth.

As the first light of day breaks on the horizon;

Morning has come.

Thumping,
My heart is pounding in my chest

This is what it means to feel alive.
In this very moment,
for eternity,
I exist.

Sunrays and salt water,
Moonbeams and glowing neon purple signs.
You're going to be glad you kept on living
Moonflower Dec 2015
What is this feeling?
This surging of energy beneath my skin,
The gentle tugging on my spirit,
Or is it wishful thinking?
I am asking for the wisdom to discern.
What am I to do with the life that I've been given?
I'm standing with my arms extended and am looking to the azure skies for guidance, but all I hear is the deafening silence.
I want to help.
I want to protect the helpless and bring comfort to the broken.
I want to make a difference.
I want to be a beacon of light and positivity for those around me but lately I've barely had the motivation to eat.
I know this will pass.
This will pass and my abdomen will ache from laughter.
This will pass and I will walk lightly upon this earth once more, eclipsing the sullen mess I once was.
This will pass and I will make music with the purest souls I know, singing and dancing and feeling the bliss coursing through my veins.
I wrote this draft October 22nd and I am here to say it did pass.
Nov 2015 · 1.5k
A home in my bones
Moonflower Nov 2015
I've found a home in my bones.
A meadow of the softest grass rests in my center
where wild flowers grow and peek between the spaces of my ribcage.
There is a rushing current that slows to a gentle stream with every bend in my veins.
My heart is a rock covered in moss, not in the sense that it's grown hard, but it rests undisturbed,
There is life here.
My body is an abandoned city that nature has taken over.
I lie down for a nap
as climbing ivy wraps around my arms and legs.
I am home.
A sleepy poem from my sleepy brain
Oct 2015 · 775
8w
Moonflower Oct 2015
8w
Inhale.
Everything is going to be okay.
Exhale.
I am officially making 8 word poems a thing. A poem could be a single word.
Oct 2015 · 417
With these hands
Moonflower Oct 2015
With these hands I will paint the world, explosions of color and words of wisdom on every canvas I may humbly yet boldly use as my platform.
And with these hands I will guide the blind, stepping lightly over roots and stones and leading them to where the crickets chirp, the frogs croak, the water trickles into lakes and streams.
With the same hands that will fight the malicious, blow after blow, they will cradle the broken.
Holding their limp, exhausted bodies in my arms, I will keep them safe in my nest until they've regained the strength to fight for themselves.
Harm will not reach them.
I will not allow it.
With these hands I will dig into the Earth and feel the soil, cool between my fingers, smiling at the energy I feel coursing through my veins and thanking my home planet for the opportunity to experience such beauty of such magnitude.
With these hands, I will pluck at the strings and press the keys of every instrument I encounter, playing the melody that flows within me, within my soul, and hear it reverberate from the tops of the mountains that I've climbed and have yet to climb.
With these hands, I will celebrate every victory-- mine, everyone's-- with a fist in the air, with a high five so powerful it hurts, with a booming clap in rhythm with my beating heart.
With these hands, I will hold the hottest of metals, the softest of petals, the sharpest of glass, the smoothest of brass.
I don't mind feeling every extremity of the spectrum.
I want to live.
And with these hands, I will feel what it means to be alive.
Creating has never felt so freeing. I'm thankful, I'm thankful, I'm so ******* thankful.
Oct 2015 · 1.4k
To Consciously Exist
Moonflower Oct 2015
To consciously exist is truly an unrequitable privilege.
What a joy to be alive. What an honor!
There is so much to see, so much to feel!
And a finite amount of time to do it.
Deeply realizing this is overwhelming in the best way possible.
It is absolutely mind-blowing.
I seek adventure.
I am going to find my purpose.
I will seize my every day.
Sep 2015 · 295
Awakening
Moonflower Sep 2015
As I walked alone
I came upon an empty path encased in a sea of green.
While taking note of each plant illuminated by the midday light, I was overcome with a rush of emotion-
a rush of joy,
rising from my chest and shining out of my eyes.
I felt alive.
I felt free.
Sep 2015 · 126
Mahogany
Moonflower Sep 2015
Golden light floods the room
as dust slowly moves about.
It is quiet here,
but not so quiet that the silence is loud.
I can hear the air filling his lungs and slowly bidding them both goodbye with each passing second as he sleeps beside me.
What beautiful rhythm.
Sep 2015 · 282
You Move Me
Moonflower Sep 2015
You move me.
You move me like sunlight on the dew drops of wild flowers.
You move me like the loud rumbling of thunder.
Like an intense game of laser tag; sweating and running and chasing.
You move me like Louis Armstrong's fingers on his trumpet.
You move me like my mother smiling down at me from the kitchen table when I was six.
Like Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band,
Like the smooth surface of my first hand-made bowl.
You move me.

You move me like the wind in my face when the car windows are rolled down.
You move me like my first paint set.
You move me like holding my first nephew, staring up at me with his small, blue eyes.
You move me like The Ground Is Lava.
You move me like the pen on this paper,
racing to scribble down my next thought.
You move me like snapping hair ties, like broken records, like drippy nail polish.
You move me like the rain drops on my window during a violent storm.  
You move me like a long, unwinding road.
You move me like holding my crying sister.

You move me like T.S. Eliot, John Green, Phyllis Reynolds Naylor, Neil Gaiman.
You move me like a fast swivel chair.
You move me like my first knocked-out tooth.
You move me.
You move me like my first kiss in the second grade, smiling and giggling and nodding at, "Do you want to do it again?"

You move me like your bruised fingertips.
You move me like nervous glances that are shot away when you look back at me.
Like our first hug, when I didn't want to let go.
Like my blistered feet when I snuck out and ran to see you.

Like the playful nudges when we walk rythmically side by side.
You move me like your slant rhyme.
You move me like my shaky leg.
You move me like the late nights spent looking at photos from my past.
You move me like new shoes on linoleum floors.
You move me like the purple bags under my eyes.
You move me like the first time you introduced yourself to me.

You move me like my first communion as a child; disrespecting the purpose to the practice and just wanting to down a shot of grape juice.
Like the printer that won't stop shooting out pages.
Like your tangled imagery and verse.
Like my first hat.
You move me like rushing water.
You move me like falling out bed.
You move me like when our hands accidentally brush against each other in the hallway.
You move me like refusing to give up and trying again.
You move me like the way I dream of moving you.
You move me.
Inspired by the bold, lovely Gina Loring, I was seventeen when I wrote this about a boy who I met in my creative writing class. He became my best friend.
Feb 2015 · 437
Jumbled Thoughts
Moonflower Feb 2015
It has been almost two months since I last felt the energy of your lips against mine;
I've forgotten for the most part the way they tasted after you smoked a cigarette out on your balcony in the cold.

I've learned by now that I'm at peace when I suppress the memories and pretend you do not exist.

That probably isn't healthy but at least it helps keep your ghosts at bay.

Some thoughts, though, are etched into my memory due to how much I tried to remember every little detail while we were together
otherwise I knew I'd forget-
how your pupils expanded and contracted,
how the sky looked,
how much the air weighed-
You and I both smoke often and don't put much faith in our memory but I'd be ****** if I didn't try to remember.

I think I tried so hard because deep down I knew what we had,
whatever we were
was temporary-
but it was pure,
and it was rare,
and it was so beautiful.

I desperately tried to remember you sitting there beside me the first night we were alone together,
walking around downtown and passing back and forth pineapple ***** in a bottle of mountain dew,
picking each others' brains,
talking about our past.

We became inseparable within days.

As puzzle pieces, we fit perfectly.
Even our friends thought we would be great together,
you and I both **** well knew it.

I still remember how far away you looked as you played the song you composed on the piano and that it was so ******* beautiful I tried to hide my eyes that were welling with tears.

I didn't care that you weren't really mine as long as I was still falling asleep in your bed and feeling you move closer and drape your arm over my waist in the wee hours of the morning.

Peering out of your window half asleep, I had the perfect view of the sky.
I'd watch the sun rise and look over at you and I felt like I was finally home, which was a relief since I felt unwelcome at every single place I had ever lived.

One night, your friend drove you over to my house;
you had drunkenly texted me saying you wanted a kiss.
I sat on the couch and anticipated your arrival,
trying to calm my pulse,
not having a **** clue the end was rapidly approaching.

After all, it's hard to see the end of the road sign when you're too busy looking at the breath-taking scenery.

Lying next to me on my bed in the dark,
you touched my face and whispered, "I think that deep down, even if we're not together, you are mine... and I am yours," and I believed you because I was always told that the truth comes out when the drinks go down.

We were so sweet to one another; taking each other's temperature while we were sick and lying together in bed just talking for hours on end.
We agreed time flew with one another. We kissed and laughed so much.
I was content.
I thought you were too.

We stopped seeing each other as much,
Our conversations dwindled and I could feel you losing interest.

I watched you slip from my fingers and I couldn't do a **** thing about it.

Less than a month later, I went over to your apartment and you were high on the couch with your coworker's legs draped over your lap; the same girl I tried to befriend.

I looked away from the eyesore but you pulled me back in with torturous small talk.
I did my best to seem relaxed but my thoughts were burning into my exhausted brain,
how could you?
I cared after you and you repaid me by rubbing salt into the wound.

I knew then that I had lost you and I did everything I could not to shut down completely.

My autopilot is a reckless flier;
always has been,
probably always will be.

But despite the sharp turns and rough landing, I have been going to bed before 8 am and remembering to eat.
I have been taking my vitamins and drinking water.
I have been getting high with my friends and trying not to think of your voice.

As ****** as it sounds, sleeping in the bed of someone new helps speed up the healing process, or numb the same wound that won't heal- I can't tell.

I know people are meant to enter and walk out of our lives at precise moments and that there are lessons to be learned in everything,
but I still don't understand.

I guess these things just happen
but gee, I wasn't expecting it'd be over so soon.

We never had closure and we're both with someone new now so these words, words, words are pointless,
but as long as they are still flowing, they are still alive which gives them purpose.

And that is a thing worth writing about.

We were a thing worth writing about.
This is about a boy who doesn't know I truly loved him from the depths of my soul and he probably never will
Jan 2015 · 445
Promises to a Nervous King
Moonflower Jan 2015
When you've stepped down from your throne and withered to darting eyes and shaking hands, I will be your voice.

I will slay the dragons.

I will sing to you.
Jan 2015 · 385
Guaifenesin
Moonflower Jan 2015
My thoughts compensate for the lack of noise.
Here is to cough syrup and all things alike.

If you want to know the truth, the first dose was to stop the wheezing in my lungs,
and the second was to put an end to the sinking in my gut.

I miss watching your fingers dance across the keys of your keyboard and I miss the same fingers that would lift my shirt and dig into my back.

Yours is the only secondhand smoke I would gladly inhale until the cancer crept up and took us both.

I would be honored to drown in a sea of you and your demons.
Aug 2014 · 641
Pyromania
Moonflower Aug 2014
You entered my life in a whim
one foot in, the other out the door
I was enough for you when you pressed your
body up against mine
and moaned "Oh, God" between kisses.
but if it was her your mind went to
late at night, why did you have to
replace the blood in my veins with gasoline,
my tongue for tinder and yours for a lit match?
The millisecond our lips touched, a fire erupted in the pit of my gut
and I was engulfed in flames,
burning for only you from the inside out with unreal passion.
I had never ached with such want for another being.
I thought I had won the lottery when
you asked me to be yours
while I had no clue you were merely settling for less.
Sep 2013 · 1.5k
For you
Moonflower Sep 2013
I was told when I was a little girl that when someone crosses your mind, it is because you are crossing theirs at that exact same moment.
If that is true, then you must be very tired this morning because you could not sleep one bit last night.

We haven’t spoken in months but it feels like it’s been years. I remember when we couldn't go three hours without speaking to each other.
The excessive texts, phone and video calls, and warm embraces have been replaced with silence. Bitter, cold, anxious silence.

I see you walk with your head held high, laughing with your friends and I miss when you would look that way only because your hand was in mine.
I miss when I’d say something unfunny and you would still laugh. Maybe because it was a funny kind of dumb, maybe because you loved me and tried to make me feel better.
Whatever the reason was, I miss making you happy with my stupid sense of humor.

Your kiss would make my pulse race and your smile would thrill my weak heart that’d beat rapidly for you like a hummingbird.

Somewhere in the sea of time we were one another’s lover, I immediately assumed something was wrong one morning because you called early one Sunday.
It was to tell me you loved me.
That was the one and only time in my life I was happy to be unexpectedly woken up at 5:34 am.

Later on, you excitedly showed me the journal you kept while you were in second grade. You sat beside me as I read your hardly-legible handwriting about spending the weekend with your cousins and how much fun you had with them.
I giggled at your elementary school words and felt special that I was the only one in your young adult life who had seen them.
You were so proud showing me those pieces of yourself, maybe because you were trying to open up or because it was me you chose to open up to.

I didn't deserve to see the vulnerable parts of you. I’d make you regret showing me when we’d fight. But you did the same.
You lied, developed feelings for another while you were still mine, and trampled over my bruised heart but my god I still wanted you.

Maybe it was a sick addiction and I couldn't detach myself from someone who made me feel so alive and on fire yet so cold and dead.
Maybe I just wanted to keep feeling the chill that’d run down my spine when you’d smile while kissing me.
Maybe I loved you more.

I know I don’t cross your mind and if I do, it’s a bitter, fleeting moment.
I know I made you hate me. I know I made you regret calling yourself mine.
I know you’re embarrassed to have ever publicly kissed me goodbye or held me in yours arms or sneaked out to see me.
It dulls the incessant aching to pretend the only reason we aren't talking to each other anymore is because you died long ago.
And in a sense, you did.

Today you are alive and well and completely okay without me. But I remember when you said I was the only reason you didn't **** yourself.
Now I’m the only reason you probably hate walking to sixth period, because you know you’ll see me.
But that is my favorite part of each day.
I’d rather see you focus on the end of the hallway and ignore me walking right past you than not see you at all.

The sun does not and will never compare to your sideways grin.
Neither the moon’s midnight glow nor azure sky could hold my gaze the way you effortlessly do.
But one day, maybe not so far from now, the idea of holding your heart once again won’t be so desirable.
I long for that day. While at the same time I pray I never witness it.

— The End —