when i am in love,
my god; am i in love.
i feel it when i look to the sky
and though it is painted dark grey
and the wind chills me to my core,
it feels like summer to me.
i feel it when the clock ticks,
another hour gone by in a night
that flies far too quickly,
it feels like forever to me.
the advice i give everyone is to write through it, no matter how crappy it feels. write whatever comes to your mind, even if it makes you cringe. keep writing no matter how bad you think your writing is, how bland it is, or how little or short it is.
eventually, the words will come back to you. you just have to keep forcing words out until the good ones return :)
it is so easy to let the city swallow you whole.
suburbia can consume your hope to leave
and bury it under the cement sidewalks
among a forgotten city of searchers;
a desk nine to five has a habit
of putting your brain in a box
marked look; do not touch.
do not be food for the pigeons
and do not leave your everything
among the skyscrapers to die;
escape in time to remain in tact
and never forget that it is in peace and serenity
that we find who we really need to be.
for weeks on end
i slurred drunken messages
(time and time again)
into the voicemail
of a dead friend.
a part of me hoped
(that despite reality)
they would deliver on their promise
to get back to me
as soon as they could.
perhaps i should have chosen a different pen name, because every time i search “typical treatment” on tumblr nearly all that comes up is how to get rid of genital herpes and lists of menopause symptoms.
i let your fingers
dance across my cheek
as i look deep
into your arms.
(you are so beautiful.)
you move your hand
to meet my back,
and bury your head
into my neck.
(i’ll never make you hurt.)
you close your eyes,
but the smile gracing
your cheeks does not fade
as i watch you.
(you are perfect for me.)
our lips touch
and you press yours
hard against mine
to mark your home.
(i feel myself falling.)
autumn changed everything. it told me,
‘take control and make it your own.’
leaves falling gracefully from tree branches,
and i, climbing them with opportunity.
a view from the treetops;
a sight not easily forgotten.
the wintertime told me to tread carefully.
it did not promise; it did not commit.
presenting itself with chances,
laced with flaws yet full of shaky potential.
i spent most of my time pondering
what decision i should make.
with the spring came the certainty
that winter could not deliver.
flowers blossomed in cracks of pavement,
as did you with time and patience.
iridescent days of colour and wonder,
and a name you gave me.
and the summer marked a new chapter,
of all seasons combined with a warm breeze to match.
becoming the view that autumn had shown me,
finding comfort in the chances winter had displayed,
picking the flowers that spring had given.
watching you follow suit.
after all that occurred, this is what time has taught me:
so many things can change
over the course of four short seasons.
and i think most of all, i enjoyed basking in the
long awaited and wondrous summertime with you.