And here I am.
For many years I’ve woken up to an insatiable thirst, with the thrill of a novelesque romance to come. To dreams vivid and dancing on the ends of my eyelashes. Alighting my smile as I peered through these dusty blinds, searching for my very own prince. Greeting each new white horse with nothing but fresh eyes and a brazen heart. In the end crossing nothing but coal among the rubble. And now...
In the morning when the mirror won’t...
Life is raw material, we are artisans. We can sculpt our existence into...– Cathy Better
Washed away with the downpour,
my words, my visions, restless days of expectation. My chance, my rejection, my old friend, my trail of crimson. Sick with surrender, a final attempt at letting go. Almost everyday these eyes have wandered. To my annihilated reflection, to these desolate hills that were once mine, to the small purple box in the corner of my room. Dizzy from the fever, I climb into my car. My naivety smothered...
Patience and indifference dance dangerously on the...
That sweet relief when you’re able to spill your guts to someone who knows nothing at all.
heycolleen asked: The passages you write are so incredible! You have a great gift.
I have no doubt, this is the devil's land.
I rolled down my car window, hoping I could breathe. My voice shook as acid poured from my lips in glorious, enraged splendor. I left the side door wide open, which I never do, simply because I no longer fear death. I grabbed my shattered heart by the neck in hopes of silencing it forever. Today my mother wept, and my own father played me for a fool. Today, I have lost everything.
Half-buried and sleeping with the rain.
As time goes on around my ever-shifting soul, I always feel that I should be in another place. Merely a shell of what I once was. Never sleeping, shortness of breath. Struggling to remember the last time I ate. I’d like to say I have no angst, but it runs too thick through these hollow veins. Despite my disposition. My hypocritical advice. Fueling my restless days, my predictable ways. Oh...
This won't matter come tomorrow.
Perhaps one day I will master the art of moving forward, meanwhile falling prey to my own disease. Trying to pick up where I left off, hindered only by rage. Rage at your nerve. Rage at your turning away. Rage at myself. My giving heart, my scrambled words. How easily I seem to bleed for someone I hardly know. But I thought I knew you. Fighting to maintain my facade, I reluctantly crumble. The way...
There was something in this one that was too...
Several moments have passed and I’m still sitting here staring. My mind a sudden blank. Trying to feel something, anything at all. My eyes begin to burn and grow tired, yet still I continue to stare. No longer in awe. Your face, a reminder of things I chose to forget. Because loving you was cold and sterile and unsatisfying. I remember times when I would hold my breath, fearing all that you...
Even the clumsiest of knots are easier to loop than to loosen.– Under Fishbone Clouds, Sam Meekings
cognitivedissonance1989 asked: Just wanted to say that I absolutely love your blog
But they did and so did I that day.
Brief thoughts, ticking clock.
Because I feel beautiful when I’m alone. I’ve grown used to this deafening hunger, this futile charade. Yet some nights I still yearn to be held. And I will keep my soft secrets, swallowing down everything, throat burning with words I’ll never get to say. Dreaming of worlds where my mother is healed and my spirit is young again. Where my laughter and sunshine and mint-colored ice...
The only real security is not insurance, or money or a job, not a house and...– Audrey Sutherland