There is something romantic
about
           light
                     snowfall
                                      on an early spring morning.
I just can't put my gloved finger on it...
It has something to do with
the final goodbye of Father Winter,
the last kiss
                    from
                            falling
                      flakes.
Perhaps it's the way
the birds still chase each other
despite the cold whip of the snow.
Maybe it's the way the daffodils look,
                  yellow     dresses
                         powered
                              in
                        sparking
                       diamonds,
           swaying
      slowly to
            Father's
      lulling tune.
It has something to do with the way
the waking sun
                          pours
                                    pink
                                            light
onto the dreary eyed school children

Yes, there is something romantic
about a
             light
                     snowfall
                                   on an early spring morning.
But it's heartbreaking to
crumble
                the fresh blanket,
or to watch it
             melt
                             away.
Seeing the sun
                 beating
                    heat
onto frozen grass,
until the snow
sinks or
hides in shadows.
Soon all that is left of the morning snowfall
                                                        ­                 is the crisp breeze
and the odd sense of mourning
among the spring daffodils.

I missed the taste of you.
And the way your lips pressed to mine so lovingly and filled to the brim with affection.

I missed the way you watched my movements.
As if I was a rare animal in the wild, which both fascinated and inspired you.

I missed the way your hands felt.
And the way they curled into mine, fitting as if they were destined to be there.

I missed the way you made me laugh.
The most honest smiles I have ever made were in your presence.

And I knew we'd make it.

My perfect constellation.
My greatest adventure.

My love.

And even in the midst of those who say "NO" and "NEVER", we find ourselves surrounded by love and determination. A little home built for our hearts. And a triumph like no other.

(i. r)

the harder you hit
the more i want to prove that i can take it.
the bruising is expansive
and the canvas is almost full.
strangely,
my single fear is that you may switch gears
and choose a new medium with which to shape me
into exactly what i told you i would never become...


--your tragic masterpiece.

Late at night is when I think
And try to I clear my head
I often stay awake all night
Just laying in my bed

As soon as I get comfy
Thoughts start racing in
I start to question everything
and regret my every sin

At first the thoughts are gentle
Like what will I do tomorrow
But as time crawls by; they escalate
Till I'm drowning in my sorrow

I think of all my failures
Every detail of what I did wrong
After hours of reliving pain
I convince myself I don't belong

I suddenly feel isolated
and like the silence will never end
I feel like I will never escape
There's too much I just can't mend

I feel overpowered and worthless
Like I'll never do anything right
I hide till the world fades away
And I'm awoken by the light

I realize a new day has come
It's time to put on a brave face
I put those negative thoughts away
Until I return to this place

I do not like this phase of a heart break.

When you purposely avoid love songs,
Or sometimes you play them just to make yourself feel like your hearts still pounding.

When the person you loved and hid from every waking soul is brought into a conversation.
Or when he isn't.

When you see other lovers who have made it years without the cruel hand of fate ripping their love from them.
Or when you see they haven't.

When you notice him writing you smaller, casual messages when they use to be breathtaking and beautiful.
Or when he doesn't write at all.

When I ask you if I am pushing you away and you say no.

"Alright, happy birthday! Text me later tonight?"

"Will do"

When every hidden goodbye ends with those two words. And my broken, belittled heart.

(i. r.)

Sleeping keeps the headaches that creep back without a peep.
Consciousness more or less leaves me torn and hopeless.
Sometimes i sit in the cool dark, sometimes the hot.
Sometimes i speak to nobody and occasionally,
I get the privilege of listening.

I am a woman, firm and strong.
A woman that will not stand for what is wrong.
I am a woman who will fight for what is right.
A woman in darkness who will shine like a light.
I am a woman who strives to do the best.
A woman who perseveres and will not rest.

I am a woman who cares for what is small.
A woman who is unique and special to all.
I am a woman filled with love.
A woman who aims to soar like a dove.
I am a woman, strike a rock, if you strike me.
A woman, yes.
A woman is who I love to be.