You do all these things
Little, teeny, tiny things
That even you don’t notice
But I do
Each and every one
How when we get sodas you push the tab up just until it’s perfectly vertical
How your eyes and nose scrunch up when you laugh
How you don’t like wearing socks
How you stare at me and smile when I catch you
How your voice changes when you speak to me
How it gets softer and gentler
How when I squeeze your fingers to tell you I’m afraid you stroke my hand with your thumb
How you talk oh so quickly when talking about things you love
How in those moments it feels like time itself has to hasten it’s pace just to keep up with you
How whenever your arm is around me you trace swirls into my shoulder
How when I say something dumb you shake your head and smile
How you like to wear a few...
Stand up for yourself!
Yet you punish me when I do against you
Yet I’m constantly torn down
Yet you won’t let me go
You don’t need that boy!
Yet I do because without him I’d have no idea what love is
Don’t apologize so much!
Yet if I don’t you won’t speak to me
Its okay to be human!
Yet I shed a tear and your only words of “comfort” are ‘chill out’ and ‘here we go again’.
Its okay to be wrong; everyone can be!
Apparently everyone except you
Stop caring what people think!
So I stopped caring what you think
Think for yourself!
So I learned and formed my own morals and opinions that are vastly different from yours
Don’t be so nice!
So I decided I will be even kinder
Everything you demand of me will be done out of spite. For the rest of my life because of the damage you’ve...
I go through each day.
No matter how minuscule
Imagining I’m doing that very task
With you by my side.
As I’m making lunch, it’s for the two of us; not only me.
And as I work I have the blanket spread over onto the space next to me on the couch. Covering the legs of the memory of you beside me.
I feel the ghost of your arm around me.
As I brush my teeth you’re beside me making me laugh and try not to spew foam and spit everywhere.
And when I lay in bed at night your arms are around me and your chest is my pillow and I am safe for you are home.
You are my home.
But I’m away from home
And two weeks seems like far too long..
Yes. In reality right now I’m alone.
I’ve been told I have an overactive imagination.
I lay in my bed with him next to me. Popcorn and soda. A perfect movie night or so it would seem. My problem is yes he is next to me. But only on a screen.
I promise to be there. I swear to cheer him on. At the first swim meet of a season he's been preparing for for months. But my internet is awful and the stream won't start.
So I sit here waiting. And while I'm used it it's still hard.
Just as Tom said "the waiting is the hardest part"
We wait for everything. For school, for graduations, for proms, and proposals, and weddings.
"You have phones!" They shout. "Just give him a call," or "Send him a text." Like they expect it to be the same at all.
Because a text "I love you" will never mean as much as hearing those words fall from his lips.
And a kiss goodnight over facetime will never...
I’ll never complain when you’re sad
I won’t add to the weight that you bare.
When you’re upset I’ll be okay
So I can give you a shoulder to lean on that won’t break.
I’ll keep the bad inside and I won’t let it free
Not until after you feel better
Not until I’ve done for you
What you always do for me
I find it amazing
The things you’ve shown me to be true
That love isn’t supposed hurt
And that Rascall Flats was right when they sang
”God bless the broken road that led me straight to you”
Because my road to you is broken and ragged. It is a filthy, crumbling road, covered in pieces of jagged glass, and pieces of broken heart.
And I’ve walked that road with bare, bloody feet for as long as I can remember.
Or I used to.
I came across you on my road.
You’d been walking your own.
Your feet bare and bloody just like mine.
But our roads came together and formed one.
Just as our hearts did the first time you took my hand.
Our roads merged into one.
A clean, newly paved road that, though it has it’s cracks, won’t ever break.
We walk down that road together now, hand in hand.
And I won’t ever let you go.
“Slow down” they screech.
“You’re going nowhere fast.”
“At least enjoy the ride.”
“Don’t force it.”
“Don’t be clingy.”
“Don’t push him away.”
“You’re scaring him.”
“He loves you.”
“He’ll leave you.”
“There are hundreds of girls he could like better than you.”
“Being there for him all the time? A little much too fast isn’t it?”
“You only love him like this because he’s the first person to show you any affection.”
Who said all these things? Why the quotes? You ask me.
My parents’ lips dropped these words and then abandoned them in my head. Tossed in a ring with my anxiety and insecurities and told to bash my happiness’ brains in. To pummel my certainty and not stop the beating until it was clinging onto life and begging to be spared.
They’re wrong. He tells me this quite often. Usually as I’m sobbing into his chest or as far as tonight...
I’ve gotten so good at faking it
sometimes I believe I’m okay too
Some nights I dream
I dream of my future with the love of my life
The boy who to me put the stars in the sky and then placed the moon among them to serve as a bow
The boy who wipes my tears
The boy who presses is lips to mine like I am his only source of sweet oxygen
The boy that looks at me like I put the stars in the sky and placed the moon among them to serve as a bow.
I don’t speak of this dream
Because they’ll say I’m far too young and naive to really know
They’ll say it’s too soon
That young love doesn’t last
And they’re right
Young love won’t last;
No love lasts
Both parties want it to
Both partners cling to one another and fan the spark of their love so that the fire that burns within each of them keeps the other warm ...
“We’re live” you say.
I smile as I fumble through apps until I reach the purple square.
I connect my headphones and select the stream and your friend’s voice is the first to fill my ears.
But a little patience and I get what I was waiting for.
Your voice fills my headphones
Your laughter makes me beam.
I can picture your face, your smile as you speak.
I love you so much
And these small things make me weak
Why won’t you be quiet?
I ask you to stop talking
and instead you scream.
You aren’t helping at all.
I am loved
You don’t need bend every word he says to see if it’ll break.
Because, guess what?
They won’t break.
He isn’t leaving.
He’s got me.
And he swore he won’t let go.
And the time will pass before your very eyes!
You’ll see him in no time so long as you distract your mind from the time.
But keeping busy doesn’t take him off my mind.
Or how I long for his lips to be pressed against mine.
But still I’ll stay busy.
Yes I’ll try and kill time.
There are so many things I want to do with you.
So many places I long to go with you by my side.
There are so many moments I want you to be a part of.
Graduations I want to kiss you at.
Homes for us to share.
Vows for us to exchange.
And so many other things I’d love for the future to hold.
So this is why my heart soars and i beam when you say forever and always
Someday we won’t hang up
Rather we’ll kiss each other goodnight
And someday we won’t text ‘good morning’
Rather we’ll wake up side by side
Someday I won’t cry into my pillow after a hellish day
Rather you’ll take me into your arms and tell me “we’ll be okay”
Someday we’ll walk down the aisle
And forever will no longer be just a word
And someday I’ll be happy everyday
Because the rest of my days shall be spent with my hand in yours
The word tomorrow has never tasted so sweet
As it falls from my lips
Why you ask?
Because when tomorrow comes
And I rise from my bed
I know that it’s you
I’ll be seeing
When this time has passed
I’ll be in your arms.
You promise you won’t let me go.
We haven’t held each other in two excruciatingly long months.
I’ll never let you go.
You’re fast asleep by now my love.
I could see the exhaustion in your eyes through the screen.
But still you stayed.
And you laughed.
And you made sure I was okay.
Because you say you can’t sleep if you don’t.
Now it’s two a.m.
And I’m looking through old text bubbles that darted between us and the photos you send me each day.
And as I swipe through each picture and see you smile back at me.
I can’t help but think
”That is my boyfriend.”
You are my boyfriend.
Wonderful, kind, amazing you.
I swear I wonder what could possibly have caught your attention.
Because I look at you my love
And I see nothing but absolute perfection.
What will help?
What do I want?
What do I need?
Each day the same questions.
Yet my answer will never change.
I do believe it’s obvious
It will always be him.
My favorite song is his voice set to the metronome of his heartbeat
My favorite place to be is in his arms; his warm embrace
My favorite thing to see is his smile; the dimple he has and the way his eyes crinkle in the corners.
My favorite person is him.
I love him.
He’s all I will ever want.
He is all I need.
And I’m New York
He’s still and quiet
I don’t know how to stop moving
And I’m New York
He’s so complex
I wear my heart on my sleeve
And I’m New York
He misses me
I miss him too
And I’m New York
He loves me
And I love him
And I’m New York
And I’m sleepless
And I’m New York
I won’t tell him that I’m disappointed..
I guess I’m good at hiding it now
Yes I get excited too easily
It was never set in stone anyhow
It nothing more than an idea
A thought he had
A way for us to see each other much sooner than we had planned
We cannot do this
And though I knew the chances were slim
The idea of being able to be held by him
Was far too great
And so up went my hopes
But all things must come down
And if you listen closely you can hear
My heart break
As it collides with the ground
What made you think I'd be okay today?
Did the tears on my cheeks last night get mistaken for tears of joy?
Did I not tell you I wasn't okay?
I know I did.
But still your first words to me today were
"What's your problem?"
"What's wrong with you?"
You don't seem to understand though.
You don't seem to get that the only thing that can make me feel better is to see someone.
In all honesty one specific person.
But God forbid I say that
For fear of being told "you're too invested in him"
"You care too much."
I can't help it.
I miss him.
And I long for this to be over
because as soon as it is the only place I want to be is in his arms.
I can't do this much longer
I can't handle this.
Relationships are hard
This is a tale as old as time
Only seeing my world through a screen
That is a new kind of difficult entirely.
I miss him
I miss his voice
The way our hands fit together perfectly
Or the way his body fits perfectly against mine as his arms loop around my waist
Yes I miss him.
Being lonely is hard
But being lonely and in love is nearly unbearable.
This one is kind and true.
Stand down, guardians.
He says I have no need for you.
And for the first time ever
I believe this.
I am safe with him
So you no longer have to worry.
He cares for me.
He protects me.
He is home.
So stand down.
He's got me now.
Two days of debating.
“Am I ready for this?”
“I can’t do it.”
There’s no way.
But then, there is a way. I decide, with the help of a friend, that I need to do it.
I send him a message; it’s short and sweet.
The time on my phone reads 8:28 and by 8:30 I’ve got a response.
By 9:00 I’ve told him he’s cute.
By 10:00 he’s called me gorgeous.
By 11:00 my heart flutters.
By midnight I’m in love.
Turns out a chance was all I needed after all.
Yes, it would seem;
All I needed was this.
I never understood this song until now.
I knew I loved it because Tom Petty sang the second verse
Because I can sing in way that gives people a very slight memory of Stevie Nicks from those days.
But now I know what it's about.
It's about being led on, lied to, and then having someone crawl back when they've been torn down.
So to you I say,
Stop draggin my heart around.
Take me back to when goodbye meant only until tomorrow.
Take me back to when BFF meant always there; not just when it's convienent.
Take me back to when boyfriend meant holding hands in the hall and love notes at lunch; not guilt trips and lies over text.
Take me back to reading after school didn't give me a migraine.
Take me back to when the only "panic attacks" I had were because I couldn't find my stuffed rabbit.
Take me back to when the most heated arguments had were over which Teen Titan was the coolest.
Take me back to when my biggest crisis was deciding which Lunchable to leave for Friday's lunch; and not whether not I'll ever find love.
Take me back to when friends and more than friends said "I love you" and meant it.
I'm standing in a room.
I can see everyone.
All of my friends that is.
They don't see me.
But they stand in front of my window admiring themselves.
There is a slot in the wall where things can be given and another where things can be received.
The latter is covered in dust, as if it hadn't been used since it was installed.
I place things, love, into the gift slot and they take them.
I get none in return.
Day after day they come again and again.
Their hands raw and bloody from scraping at the slot; grasping for whatever they can grab.
They're sly and they're cunning and they convince me that this is love.
So I continue to give.
And still get nothing.
Today, there is a roll of tape before me and I know what I must do.
I close the gift slot.
I condemn it and crumble to floor.
I can hear their...
Please don't ask if I'm alright because the truth is I'm not sure.
The world feels awkward and heavy and I'm very uncomfortable.
What is it?
I don't know.
I don't feel right but that answer doesn't seem to suffice.
No it doesn't seem to satisfy you.
No, I don't want to talk.
There's nothing to say.
And I can't stand you looking at me in that way.
Your face is twisted in pity; your eyes stained with concern.
You say you don't recognize me.
But how am I to explain that my heart aches and burns?
That the weight on my shoulders is so much to bear?
That I've been here before and you didn't care?
I got through it then.
And I'll get through it now.
I'm used to it.
To being asked what's wrong and putting on a happy face.
I'm used to it.
To loving with all of me; the entirety of my being, only to be ignored.
I'm used to it.
To the hurricane of thoughts that never seem clear.
To the good days only being the eye of that hurricane.
I'm used to breaking down in my bedroom at three a.m.
I'm used to being disappointed.
I'm used to being used.
"How are you so happy all the time?" They ask.
I guess I'm just used to it.
Blair sat on the table of the meeting room swinging her leg gently as she listened to the case. Agent Blair Reeves, age 26, was in her second year with the FBI. She was the youngest of her team, but by far the most intelligent and determined. Henry, the newest intern, brought in three paper cups of black coffee and one green tea marked with a "B" for Blair.
"Thank you, Henry," she said bringing the cup to her lips.
"No problem, Agent Reeves." he blushed.
With that he left the room briskly as the case briefing continued.
"The unsub has decided on a signature for his deeds. He's making sure we know that they're his doing," Detective Blakely began. He pointed to the photo on the screen where, in red thread, the words: "catch me if you can" were stitched into the victims' forearm.
"Eerie," Alyssa shuddered at the sight. She was in her early thirties and was Brooke's...
Void of feeling at this moment.
I'm not sure if I'm alright.
Obviously I'm not.
But I can't help but want to pin point the feeling.
Betrayal? No, too strong.
Cheated? No, that isn't it either.
Lied to? That's the one.
I'm strung between two towers of looming stories and I'm unsure of which to believe.
I want to believe you. But I'm gonna need it proved to me.
I'm gonna need you to show me.
You say you love me.
That I'm the only girl
We've done this before.
You've said that before.
You've sent that text before.
You've called me baby before.
You've left me before.
But, at the same time.
No one has held me like that before.
No one has needed me like this before.
No one has said these things to me before.
No one else has cared about me the way you do.
Here's to our second time round.
Don't make me regret it.
She wrapped herself in his flannel.
The big, soft, shirt that smelt like his cologne.
He had let her bleach the bottom half, shades of pinks and yellows now showed.
She grabbed her keys and ran out the door.
The car stereo played, his voice greeted her.
She looked down and smiled at his face on her shirt.
She pulled up at the venue and was met with a guard.
Ryan let her through with a flash of the badge around her neck.
She ran to the side of the stage, where the curtain concealed her.
He turned to the side, his shirt caught his eye but the girl in it made him smile.
She had come to see him at his last show.
6 months was way longer than either of them go.
He smiled again as the next song began to play and something slid across the stage.
He reached down and grabbed his flannel shirt and put...
It was October of 1987.
She walked over to the boy that sat alone on the swings.
She was 8 years old. Her older sister's denim jacket swallowed her whole.
The boy looked sad. He was maybe 9 she guessed; he kept using the collar of his t shirt to wipe at his eyes.
"Are you okay?" she sat on the ground in front of him.
"Huh?" he looked around before his teary eyes landed on the girl in front of him. "Yeah, I'm okay."
"You're a pretty bad liar." She stated. "My sister says that when she's sad."
He smiled and laughed. He took a moment to take in the sight of his new friend. She was short and wore a denim skirt with high top converse. 'The denim jacket must be her sister's' he thought. He took note of the yellow scrunchie holding her ponytail in place and the two identical ones on her wrist. 'Yellow is her...
What right do you have to make me feel this way?
What right do you have to take away my joy?
What right do you have to be angry with me over everything I do or say?
None. Don't try to say I've done something terrible yet again because this time I will not be fooled.
I try to be honest
I don't feel like talking to you
I try to apologize
I try to be a good friend
You hate me
I try so very hard
And you refuse to let this be a healthy friendship.
I've been shown now that
conversations with your best friends aren't supposed to end with a tear stained face
happiness isn't meant to be drained away
You don't get to bury me in so much self doubt, pain, and guilt that I can't breathe.
You don't get to decide how I feel. ...
I searched my head today
For something I had misplaced
Something I hadn't seen for quite awhile
But when I searched
My brain came up empty
An error message displayed
What it read?
"File Not Found"
What were you searching for?
What couldn't be found?
I was looking for a feeling
That I used to own.
It was given to me 4 years ago
wrapped up very pretty
and tied up with a bow.
It made me smile
and want to be around you
and protect you
and be there always
Did you ever find it?
It's been erased
Never to be seen again
The feeling of a best friend
the ashes stomped into the ground
Now in it's place
A monster snarls,
One day one way
The next another.
The simplest things
expand into a fight
A problem I've had with no other.
So in this space where the file of...
Twinkle twinkle little star
Show them all how strong you are
Glowing in the dark of night
Such a spectacular sight
Twinkle twinkle little star
Can’t you see you’ve come so far?
I’m only looking forward.
Directly in front of me is all I can see.
A pathway that has yet to be traveled by my callused, worn feet.
There are signs labeled:
But I’m only focused on one thing right now.
The mirror that stands in my way.
I have been so incredibly busy searching, wishing, waiting for love; that I have forgotten to find it in myself.
The mirror stands as a challenge; a mountain I must climb before I continue down the path ahead.
So, here I am.
I will wait for “the one”
I will stop searching.
I will release the matter from my hands and thoughts.
I am washing my hands of the worry.
I have wonderful friends
a loving family
a beautiful life.
I am in love.
With all that I have.
I look into the mirror now and say:
“I love you. You are enough. You are beautiful, smart, and kind....
9 long years
8 restless hours of sleep
7 blares red on the alarm clock
6 sets of hands grabbing brushes and palettes
5 more minutes that feel like an eternity each
4 knocks on the door
3 simple words
2 pairs of lips meet
1 love is sealed for the rest of forever
There are five things that I truly believe are better than anything in this world. Better than treasures and riches, better than the finest silk or food even. In these five things I find myself. The things I love about me and am proud of. In these five things I find peace.
1. A smile thrown in the hallway or in a shop that bounces off of walls and faces to brighten even the darkest day. A superpower I can't help but believe I have. I adore being a safe space for so many people; that my words or even a hug can affect someone in such a huge and positive way. It makes me happy to bring joy to others.
2. Colors. I admire the colors of the world and proudly douse my hands in them on a daily basis. The rainbow of dye that seeps beneath my nails and stains the skin of my...
Dear Mr. Cupid,
Stop using broken arrows when you aim your bow at me.
Some are snapped in half.
Jagged, deep wounds that never seem to heal.
Others are soaked in battery acid,
eating away at my heart.
Dear Mr. Cupid,
When you do take aim
Won't you remove the blindfold you wear?
Won't you please take special care
to ensure you do hit the both of us with an arrow that is whole?
Dear Mr. Cupid,
One day the answers will be yes
your second target will be the best
yes, the best possible match for me.
You've done so much for me without even knowing me. Your music is still guiding me through the world each and everyday. There are so many things I've wanted to tell you, Tom. So many that I can't even list them all without my pen running out of ink. You're no longer here; at least not here on Earth. You're above the clouds, in your room at the top. God gave me the opportunity last night to tell you everything I ever wanted to say to you. It was a white room, and you sat in a chair and smiled. I felt everything. The light air, the warmth of the sun, my words fall from my lips and my hands shake.You motioned for me to sit in a chair beside you and we talked about everything. The first thing I said was thank you. You were humble and modest. "For what?" you asked me. "What did I do for you...
"At night I would lie in bed and watch the show, how bees squeezed through the cracks of my bedroom wall and flew circles around the room, making that propeller sound, a high-pitched zzzzzz that hummed along my skin. I watched their wings shining like bits of chrome in the dark and felt the longing build in my chest. The way those bees flew, not even looking for a flower, just flying for the feel of the wind, split my heart down its seam." I longed to fly as they did. Soaring in the moonlit shadows cast across my ceiling. Their constant motion, the hum of their wings and soft bodies drilling into the walls, made me wish to be as they were. Carefree. Invincible. Free. The word I had never known the meaning of in my own life. The word that in the walls of this orphanage was an ember stomped on as soon as its glow was spotted. I...
The music blared so loud that the floor shook with each strum of the bass. Nina craned her neck to attempt to see the band on stage. Danny looked down, seeing his frustrated girlfriend groan as two more people stepped in front of her.
He thought for a moment. "Come on, Popcorn."
"Danny? Stringbean! What are you doing?!" Nina laughed as Danny lifted her to his shoulders.
"Wow." He heard her mumble.
He grinned, glad to have made her happy.
She leaned down and pecked the top of his curls. "Thank you."
"Anything for m'lady." Danny laughed. "I Love you."
Hello lovelies! I have quite a few characters in my stories/narratives. I also realize that I don't really go into a lot of detail with their personalities or little details about them. So! I want you lovelies to pick a character (or a few (; ) and ask them themselves any questions you have! We'll give a day or two to gather some questions and get back to you in another post! :) We hope & can't wait to hear from you!
Danny sat on the floor in front of the couch, trying to get the TV sorted for our weekly binge watching session. I was twisting his curls around my fingers when he groaned out in frustration.
"Christ! I give up!" He layed his head on my legs.
"Stringbean?" I ran my fingers through his hair.
"Hmm?" he hummed, still angry with the television set.
"It's just, that's all you've ever asked me to do in all the years we've been together. I can't even do the one thing you've asked of me! You work at that dump of a restaurant and serve those jerks! You just wanna watch some TV and relax and I-!" I cut him off with a gentle peck on his lips.
"Shhhh. Let's just go."
"Go where, Popcorn?" he asked, calmer now.
"Anywhere, as long as you drive." I grinned.
"Roadtrip huh?" I nodded, my smile growing as he realized my idea. "Sounds like...
I rose from the bed, slowly propping myself on my elbows as I looked around the room. I shoved some hair back and looked around the room. She was gone, her side of the bed neatly made up and her heavy sweater taken from it's home on the closet door.
"Nina?" I called, my voice still small from sleep.
I sat up and looked to the window.
There she was on the bench below the open window, an open book by her side and her camera around her neck. She was fast asleep.
Her short brown hair was a curly mess and her sweater covered arms were wrapped around her middle.
I smiled at the sight.
I got up and walked to her.
I lifted her and carried her back to the bed.
Her green eyes fluttered open and a smile crept onto her face as she giggled.
"I fell asleep during my shoot again didn't I, Danny?" she laughed...
Cars raced by; busy people going to busy places while I sat in my flat, warm and cozy with a ceramic mug of tea clasped in my cold, paint covered hands. The warm yellow light of the streetlamps flooded through the glass and illuminated my pale features and the strings from the ceiling of my small studio. that held drying paintings and clothes. The stray cat I'd deemed Rafiki meowed at me through the window; I smiled and opened the latch, letting him curl up in my lap and drift off. Through the early morning darkness I heard the cars' tires on the asphalt of the street and the songs of birds hurrying off to God knows where. It is peaceful, it is calm; this is perfect.
Hello there everyone, and welcome back. Today we're going to be making something called 2019. Some of these ingredients can be altered depending on how you desire your 2019 to come out. Let's get started shall we? Here's what you'll need:
1 Positive Mental Attitude (PMA)
3 cups of optimism
1 dash of difficulty
1 lb of kindness
1 lb of strength
1 lb of love
A ton of laughter
A group of amazing friends
A lovely, wonderful family
2 lbs of self care combined with 1/2 lb of calm
Mix ingredients until well combined. Then it's yours to serve to yourself and share with whoever you please. I hope you all will try this recipe. You don't have to start it straight away, relax for a bit, make time for yourself. This recipe will still be here tomorrow, whenever you're ready to begin.
"Talk to me" you say.
"I'm here for you."
"You'll be alright."
I know these phrases all too well.
Because they're mine.
Recycled, tied up in a ribbon, and sent back to me.
I appreciate you being there. Really I do.
I'm alright. Really I am.
I'm not depressed.
I'm not a broken watch sitting on a table waiting to be fixed.
"Oh...well ok then. But I'm here for you. <3"
You don't believe me.
Maybe I am quieter than normal.
I know why, but I can't tell you.
You'd be upset and cry and never speak to me again.
You're the reason.
You're my best friend, my little sister.
I know you're hurting.
Really I do.
I feel for you.
I feel for you.
My shoulders and back ache.
My head pounds.
My heart is heavy.
I feel your pain.
So, I'm taking time for myself.
Not to hurt you,
I wish she could she why she's my best friend.
I wish she valued herself as much as I value her.
I wish I could take away all the pain she feels, the sadness that burdens her in waves.
I hope she knows that I'd give her the sky if I could. Tie it up in a satin ribbon and give it to her because she deserves it.
I hope she sees that I do love her and that her friendship means the world to me.
I hope she feels valued and loved at least in our friendship.
I hope you know these things.
I hope you know I'm not lying or faking any of this.
You're my best friend for a reason.
You're a beautiful being.
A kind and caring soul.
Sent from the universe to grace the Earth with your presence.
I love you and
If you ever question your worth
That you are worth...
Wow. To choose only a few? Impossible really. Music has played such an important role in my life. From the time I could speak, most of what I said were song lyrics or quotes from the radio. Let me take you through my life's backing tracks.
-Drift Away by Uncle Kracker- This song was my first favorite song. It was my mom and I's song. Every time I hear it I end up calling her so we can listen together.
-Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol- Another song my mom and I adore. If I'm ever upset, this song is my instantly my go to.
-Rhythm of Love by The Plain White T's - This was the first song I found on my own. The music and upbeat tone drew me to it.
-Cover Girl by Big Time Rush- A song from the first album I ever owned. This song helped me a lot with my body image and self esteem....
In the cosmos she walks.
Ivory skin, hair blacker than ink, and golden flakes scattered in her cheeks.
She roams the Milky Way, threading stars together to form magical constellations in the midnight sky.
She takes her needle and a thread of silver
With these she sews gorgeous pieces of art which she displays for all to see
Legend says that she was once a mere mortal, no different than you or I.
One day Apollo, the god of the Sun, saw her and was infatuated instantly.
He decided he had to have her.
He wanted to hold her in his arms.
To intertwine their fingers.
To stare in awe of her beauty.
Zeus however, said that no god could marry a mortal. Though, he did want his friend to be happy.
After Apollo's duties were completed, Zeus made his decision.
Zeus brought her to Olympus and deemed her the goddess of the night.
He allowed Apollo to...
The first people were what you or I would call bizarre.
They had two heads and two sets of arms and legs.
Each had a symbol painted on the front of their bodies
A completed heart or circle.
Zeus was afraid of what power they had
So he split them apart, their symbols halving, and scattered them across the globe.
The now two people spent their lives searching for their other half, their soulmate.
To this day we still continue this tradition
Though it is not a symbol that is split in half, it is our hearts.
So when you find your other half, hold them.
Be sure they know you love them.
Be sure that they know they are the most important and perfect being in your eyes.
I can´t say that I haven´t seen the supernatural
For my best friend is made of stardust
She must have walked down from the midnight sky
In order to grace the Earth with her presence
She sparkles in the light
And guides me through the dark
Sometimes her stars dim
Her eyes lose their sparkle
Her aura will weaken
Even though she won´t say it
She won´t ask
In these moments it will be my turn to guide her
To pull her from the darkness
When she is down
When she emits no light
If I am sad and caught up in the storm clouds
She will force a glow
So that she can pull me through
Even if in the end
It will be the last thing she can do
Before she shatters
Falls to the Earth
I hope she knows that I will be there
That I´ll always put her first
I wander through the halls.
People walk past me without a second glance.
It's like I'm invisible to their eyes.
No one stops.
No one bats an eye.
A little girl with short brown hair and ocean blue eyes stares at me, a stuffed rabbit´s arm in her small hand's grasp.
I smile gently and wave to her.
She stands with her eyes full of wonder and her head cocked to the side.
She watches as a boy that has older replicas of her features walks through me.
It is in this moment that I am okay.
I am at peace.
Because I am seen.
She sees me.
I hold a finger to my lips and reach for her hand.
She takes it and I lead her to her room.
Soft grey walls, purple curtains, and her name in wooden letters above her bed.
I help her into bed and pull the quilt over her small...
Every morning, awakes an artist.
He is tall and slender, and his skin is the color of fresh honey.
A gentle breeze sweeps his golden hair back from his face as he gathers his supplies.
He takes a paintbrush from his bag and stares at the blank, white canvas from in front of him.
And he begins to paint.
A subtle blue takes it's place as the backdrop.
Pinks and lavenders meet the canvas in gentle strokes.
White paint appears in soft wisps.
The artist sits down. His burnt orange overalls now splattered in the colors of the sunrise.
The artist admires his work and smiles.
A job well done.
He puts away his brushes and paints, closing them away until needed tomorrow.
And finally, he signs his work.
He sits in the center of the sky he created. Showing the world that he made it.
Sun then travels within his painting to...
I write because I've struggled to find my voice.
Because I've never known how to speak my mind or share my opinions for fear of upsetting others.
Because the pen and paper gather and sort my thoughts better than my lips ever could.
Because the worlds I create show me that I can breathe life into a new creation.
That I am a storyteller
Because without our voices, opinions, and thoughts, we are clones of society.
I write to break the mold.
This question we so often ask ourselves.
What can we do?
We're not enough.
We are not the change.
Let me ask you then, if we are not the change. If we are not the change
Then who? Who is?
Who will protect us?
Who will speak for us?
Who will take a stand?
The cheating politician, lying his way to the top?
He will fall.
The woman afraid to speak up. Afraid to tell the true origin of her bruises?
She will shatter.
The children afraid to go to school everyday?
They will cry.
The buildings and monuments we've raised on burial grounds?
They will crumble.
Our world? This suffocating, barren, battleground?
It will end.
All of these things, my friends. All of these things are certain to tear us apart unless we change our ways.
Why are we supporting rapists, abusers, and molesters?
Why are we not questioning our government? Our world?
Why are we ripping...
Hi Everyone! I'm working on a scary story for Halloween for you guys! I love Halloween so I thought I'd share that with you! :) I would like to know if you guys prefer supernatural type spooks or real world things. Let me know any ideas in the comments please! If you wanna read it, let me know and I'll write it! I'd love to do a "Writetober" type thing with your suggestions :) Thank you all so much for all your love and support! Peace, Love, and Everything-
I am in love.
As crazy as it seems.
I am in love.
Oh. I'm afraid it's just not as simple as that.
That is the better question
I am in love with the sky.
It's gorgeous sunrises and sunsets. The shows put on by white and wispy clouds as the dance through the mass of color.
I am in love with the sea.
It's roaring waves and salty air. Creatures that would only come from a child's storybook.
I am in love with the earth.
The grass and soil that mold so beautifully to bare feet. Wildflowers that paint the green canvas with wondrous colors.
I am in love with the universe.
The planets, the stars. Constellations outlining the most beautiful artwork.
I am in awe of the beauty that is around me.
I am in love.
She wasn't supposed to going anywhere that night.
She was supposed to be in her room, the door and window locked. She'd been caught sneaking out last weekend.
Her parents were furious.
"Where were you going to go?!" her mom screamed.
"How long have you been doing this?!" her dad joined in.
She stared at the ground, her anger growing as their yelling grew louder.
"Twenty years old!"
She couldn't take anymore.
She stormed upstairs, her long blonde hair swishing behind her.
Now here she was.
A white peasant style shirt, bell bottoms, and a beaded headband unlatching her window and climbing to the roof.
She went to the only place she wanted to be, the only person she wanted to see.
The first time she'd gone out, she'd gone to his show.
No clue who he was, she was there for the music.
'This is the place' she thought to herself while looking...
I love a lot of things in the world.
I love soft sweaters and books
I love music, the notes, the riffs, the energy
I love warm and fluffy blankets
I love bracelets stacked on my wrists
I love when people do my hair
I love trees, flowers, the sea
I love a lot of things
I have another world that makes the first even better.
I love his stories more than my books
I love his soft, calming voice more than any song
His hugs beat the fluffiest blanket
His fingers running through my waves is better than any feeling
I love nature more when he's in it with me.
He showed me a second world
I never want to leave it
I love a lot of things in the world
I love him the most.
Hi everyone! I'm currently working on a book! I still plan to post smaller things like poetry but I will be focusing on the book. Let me know if you guys would like for me to post the book here. :) Thank you for your love and support!
Peace, Love, and Everything,
There is a girl staring at me.
I know what she's thinking.
Look at her.
At the freckles carelessly scattered across her nose and shoulders. Imperfections.
I touch my fingers over each brown dot. My body's very own stars.
At the disheveled mess of hair just above her collarbones.
I run my hands through it. My soft, dark chocolate, waves.
At her pale skin. You can see her veins. Like she's made of tissue paper.
I trace the rivers of blue. Up my arms, across my chest.
At her goofy smile, those horse teeth.
I give a great big grin. I see my dimples, three of them that I love.
At her body. She's too big. She's ugly, monstrous.
I lift my tank top and look at the imperfection I know that girl is thinking about. Staring at.
Yes. I am bigger than the supermodels that strut down the runway.
Yes. I am bigger than what society has deemed beautiful.
I opened my eyes, sunlight streamed the open window. It was warm, inviting. The world embracing my body in love and warmth.
Roses are grey, violets are too
I long to see the sky,
the most magnificent blue
I run my hands through my hair and stumble to the dresser.
I look in the mirror.
Trace my features with my fingers.
My eyes. Blue? Brown? Hazel?
My lips. Pale pink? Coral?
My hair. Red? Brunette? Blonde?
I walked out of my small apartment, into the city.
Tall, towering buildings standing adjacent to each other.
Traffic lined the streets. Angry, colorless, people. Shouting, shaking fists to the sky.
Then I saw it.
The concrete barricade keeping us in and the unknown out.
I placed my hand on the cool stone, gazing up. It seemed to stretch endlessly into the man-made clouds.
What lies beyond this wall? What are we being protected from?
I pulled my jacket tighter around my body...
I'm in a hallway.
Long, narrow, and dimly lit.
Lanterns flicker on either side of the cracked and peeling walls.
Where am I?
Doors line this old and decaying hallway.
I open the one on the left of me.
There's a little girl, a baby, in a pink bunny costume.
Soft, comfortable, warm.
A sucker is jammed in her mouth, red coats her lips and she giggles.
I smile and close it, wandering to the next door.
i open it.
I see the same little girl. Older now, her mum putting her long hair in a bun.
'Dorthy doesn't wear a bun!' 'Ballerinas do, now please hold still.'
I laugh, the little girl's complaints being interrupted by the closing of the door.
The next door revealed the same girl, older still, reading this time.
'I bet it's the maid! It has to be! Who else could it be?!'
She turned the page, her eyes lit up...
I scanned all the places I knew she'd be. I scanned the shore. She'd stand in the midst of the crashing waves, her smile giving way to short bursts of laughter as the water embraced her. I scanned the forest,the tallest trees she'd climb and admire the world around her. Fireflies were her favorite, dancing around, floating through air, a recital all for her. I scanned the creeks, the rocky banks she'd sit on to collect her thoughts after a day of wandering, seeing things and filing them away in her memories. I scanned the hilltops, far and wide, the rolling ocean of green that stretched for miles upon miles. She loved to lay on the highest hill and stare up at me, starlight reflecting in her eyes. I didn't find her in these places tonight, no. She had stumbled upon the artificial light that shone, spotlights taking the place of our own. There I scanned, and I saw her....
I believe in silver linings, finding the good in the bad and the lessons in the mistakes. My uncle taught me this through music, our native tongue. He’d been through what seemed like his 2,000th back surgery, but he was happy. Joy and positivity spilled from his lips and oozed from his smile the day after surgery. I asked him if he was in pain and he grinned and said, “I am sweetie, but if this is my only cross to bear to get better than so be it.” Then, as if on cue, the his Pandora played “Touch of Grey” by The Grateful Dead, the song that has become my anthem. The lyrics echoing through my head, “every silver lining’s got a touch of grey…”, the words of truth that were instilled in me, my mantra. Looking through the world I began to notice that others choose to run from the rain instead of dancing in it. I didn’t...