Saturday, March 31, 2018

You, My Love.

When I look into your eyes...it's like the whole world gradually slows down and gravity seizes to exist. 

I'm in this odd shape of existence with you.

And I don't want to leave.

I want to bar the door so no one else can be between us, but you and I. 


I want you.


I want your arms wrapped around mine.

I want your love, and your body as your sweat sticks to mine. 


I want you. 


I want your laughs, jokes, mistakes, and anger. 

Some think I'm crazy, some think I just need a glass of wine,... but if you truly knew me? You'd know that all I need is 


YOU



A "you", they say. Who is this "you"?

I'm not sure yet. Or maybe I am. 

But I do know that he's out there, somewhere, staring into my eyes and saying in a toned whisper, 


"don't leave me, my love".

Friday, February 16, 2018

Some days

Some days, I feel just fine. But, other days, I feel like an ice sculpture melting away her own identity to the unknown onlooker...let me tell you- life is a journey, not a hike. It will make you feel like nothing matters, and everything matters in less than day. Do I have anything else to say? No, I think I'm done for today 💙 but yes I'm okay, just expressing my broken heart of shattered dreams. 

Monday, February 5, 2018

To Write, or Not to Write?

I’m not a writer. I never have been. I’ve spent days dreaming of who I would be in the future, a person of success and happiness- With a college degree in one hand and the love of a lifetime from an unrealistic man in the other.

But, I’m not a writer. I never have been.

Writing isn’t just about being the best you can. Writing is about taking the words and dreams painted in your heart and making them come to life on paper. Writing gives us an opportunity to express ourselves in ways we may not have otherwise been able to.

Did you hear me? I’m not a writer. I never have been.

It helps distinguish the unkown and communicate things we never thought we could. We take a word, and give it weight... like the pounds of emptiness in our hearts alongside the walls of broken dreams in our aortic chambers.

Okay, stupid, I’m not a writer. I never have been.

Your right, I’m not. Your not. We’re not just writers, we’re people. We’re not stupid, we’re human. Humans with the power to write our own souls. People with dreams, broken ones and ones that will come to life. We’re  human beings with the need to belong, be loved, and to live. We live lives that deserve….to be written.

We are people. We are writers. We are Dreamers. But most importantly, we’re Human Beings... destined to be loved with a pen and paper in hand.


With love from a dreaming human,
Me