Desire (5.13.17)

There is a place where I go,
When the load is too much to handle.
A place to rest and let the problems tumble,
Off my back.
Where I know they'll land safe.

In this place of holographic hue,
Prismatic sprays across the rocks.
Endless stars giggle and flicker above me.
Within this grove of weeping willows
I whisper
All the things that I desire.

The feel of skin against mine,
Sweet chocolate and fresh sunshine.
This place to take reprieve from the storm.

While I am alone here,
I am never lonely.
You see, sometimes, if I'm very quite
I can hear The Universe whisper back to me.
Through the ever falling water off the boulders
That contain my secret grove.

It says in a quite, nearly not there, voice.
"I have given you that which you desire."
And I remember the freckles in your eyes
The way they shine at me after a heavy rain.

The Universe has granted me my peace in you.

Hurts Like Scabs (4.17.17)

You walk into a pitch dark room,
The only light from the open door you came through.
The stale scent of stagnant water hits you first,
Then a tang, like metal, sinks inside your nostrils.
The air is tangible and cold, still it is too dark for you to see.
You recognize the ground is concrete
At the same time you realize you've lost your shoes.
The chill sets deeper in your bones,
You notice you're without your clothes
Completely exposed to this endless dark room.
Through the 'you' shaped shadow you see a pile
Dead center in the room.
Every cell screams for you to stand still.
The grit from the floor digs into the souls of your feet,
Still you push forward into the shadows.
With a creak and a snap, the door closes behind you,
As you knew it would.
So there you stand in the pitch,
Shade coalesces into bonds,
The already cloying air clots further,
You can feel it like memory foam sandwiching you still.
Nakedness, cold fear, and alone.
Wetness rolls down the side of the hollow of your cheek
You're crying-
You didn't even know.

Back Ally Bar Fight with Your Heart (04.01.17)

Welcome back to the dirt.
Hands, rotting and crumbling,
Something not quite dead.
Little shambling thing,
Created just to move.

Can you still feel the breath leave your lungs?
How did you end up here?
Black, blue, bloodied.
By some unknowable force.
Did you tell anyone you were wandering alone?

Smart girls know to only walk on well lit streets.
You weren't a smart girl, were you?
Treading where others refused to go,
Running through where trouble resides.
And now you'll never be found.

You died gasping,
Grasping for someones hand.
No one came.
Perhaps, by chance,
Some kind rain will come
And wash you all away.

Interesting Developmental Magic. (03.30.17)

Violence isn't your vice, it's mine.
Amongst other things, like my Lust or Pride.
You've seen the sinner hiding behind these eyes,
You reach out in absolution.

You seek to do the impossible,
To leash a hurricane and contain sunshine in smile.
Somehow, with a strange and developmental magic,
I believe you might just pull it off.

I stand like a grecian statue
Aphrodite who walks with wolves,
You do not fall to worship, but stand at attention.
Arms, like oceans, waiting for my embrace.

We are two sides to one story,
Water and fire tumbling into one another
Some cosmic stardust binding me to you.
Because you do not quiver.

I am carved from the toughest stuff,
Strong as a bull, and stubborn as one too.
Somehow, through an interesting propriety,
You are strong enough to hold me.  

I N D I S P E N S A B L E (12.29.16)

A kiss to my Third Eye and your world becomes clear.
Here we are clean, washed free of remorse and fear.
Held in arms like mountains, infinity stretches within my reach.

Around us a green haze, colors mix and dilate.
Like pupils, we grow, we learn.
From each other and from life, forever intertwined.

This moment is a micro cosmos.
Stars, so impossibly vivid, blink in my vision.
I can't tell if it's the on-coming headache, or actually a nebula.

Our hands interlaced, like the strings on my old leather boots.
These hands will take me just as far.
Gently tugging me along, lifting me up the same way.

I polish your ring with a kiss,
You are the king here.
How I love to watch you rule.

We seal the moment with a kiss,
Two speaking parts sacrificing the same thing,
So that the other could breath.

You are indispensable to me.

Walk With the Sun, Love With the Moon. (11.16.16)

She is a wildflower,
Sprouting where nothing dares to grow.
The sun light flits over her garden,
That grows on the side of highway 66.

Her eyes shimmer like gold dust in a California river,
Given the chance she'd rather be panning for minerals
Then pining over missed chances.

Because to her there is nothing quite like the air,
Mixed with starlit woods.
Something about the dead of night
Makes her feel alive.

Let's get one thing straight (Think Thoughts.)

My brain is not my friend.
On that note neither is my body.
Both of these offending objects try and kill me on multiple occasions. Normally that processes is attempted like 40 times in the same day. Like today, I've been working my tail off for an 8 hour shift, and I've been doing my best to keep in contact with friends. My brain however, doesn't care. It looks me in the soul and says,
"You're not working hard enough, I wonder if you worked harder people might actually want to spend time with you."

What the hell?
NO!

Listen, I know what that voice is, it's Anxiety or Depression. Some kind of chemical changing my vibe from good to gross in a matter of seconds. No one thinks I'm not working hard, and people love me!
But that doesn't stop the voice.

So, why write this?
Why post yet another homage to my messed up connections?

You might just be thinking the same thing. You might feel useless and hopeless, like no one in the world likes you. Don't believe the hype, you are so wonderful! You're the most wonderful you in the world! The only you.
So don't listen to your bastard track.
You go be the most wonderful you that you can manage.

What Do You Want? (3.7.16)

Out of all the possibilities I imagined as a sad and scared 10 year old, this was never one of them.
Perhaps dying, brilliantly and tragically, at 16 with so much life ahead of me.
Perhaps living, a young genius, whose mind was unrivaled. Published author at 15.
Perhaps lost, homeless and cold, but free. 17 with nowhere to land.

Now I'm 18, I live in my grandparents house, I struggle to finish a single class, I fight myself constantly.
"You cannot do this, not today, lay back down and sleep." Is what my mind whispers to me, cruel and unrelenting.
My heart screams, "This is just a moment," "This too shall pass," and "You are stronger than this,"
Millions of other platitudes recourse around my grey matter, until I am forced to collapse.

I feel lost, like I'm dying and living all in the same breath. Like tomorrow will be the raindrop that breaks the leavy. It never is.
I spout the same nonsense to anyone who will listen. As if repeating the lie will make it true,
"I'm an adult, I know what I'm doing."
A mantra whispered to a pretty boy with soft eyes and small smile. A war cry screeched at siblings, who are more afraid of their future than I am of mine.

I want the world, I want the stars and the planets and the oceans. I want an open apartment, with large windows that look out into the snow globe world. I want the freedom to pursue flights of fancy, and the security to fall.
I want a place for my marshmallow heart to call home.

I'm a scared and sad 18 year old now, so let us imagine once more.
Perhaps successful, living in a new city where I've carved my own path, 29 with so much still to do.
Perhaps mountainous, 22 with eyes cut from sapphires, glinting with righteous fury and thirsting for blood.
Perhaps found, 25 with a hand to hold, a bed to sleep in, and somewhere to be.

In-between the In-between (11.16.16)

Find me in the middle place,
Between closed doors
Above cracked window panes.

A liminal space for you and I.
Carve out time to see you smile,
Look alive, the sun is going on.

Borderlands,
An unclaimed wild for you and I to share.
Jealousy holds no sway.

My jealousy is pushing you away.

Goddess (11.4.16)

Pretty Girl without even trying
Bats her eyes and wins the world.
Lusts over a boy who left her crying,
Smudged her makeup and ruined her curls.

So Pretty Girl got all dolled up,
Wore her high-high heals to worship at that alter in the sky.
Said goodbye to Sad Boy who sent her flying,
Said goodbye to the ones who made he lie.

"I'm no pretty girl," Pretty Girl would bash,
Cause Sad Boy got so scared,
When other Pretty People noticed her.

Pretty Girl loves Sad Boy,
So when the anger fades, the heels come off.
She'll be his pretty girl,
Until she's not.

NaNo-Fucking-WriMo 2k16

Yep.

Y'all it's November, and those of you in novel writing circles will know exactly what that means. It's NaNoWriMo, 'national write a novel in a month' month for the laymen. Writers all over the internet sphere will be tearing their respective hairs out this month. As we all valiantly press on to write 50,000 words in one month. Personally, i'm shooting for 10,000. I haven't participated in NaNoWriMo since my first attempt back in 2014, so hopefully I don't explode.

Wish me luck, i'll be keeping track of my word count with a gidget in the corner. And occasionally i'll update y'all.

Happy NaNoWriMo, now go forth and be brilliant!
(sorry Edwards.)

Bringing It Back Around (10.12.16)

Hey,

Life can really fuck you up sometimes. Not every plan you make will turn out and- yeah that shit sucks. But the mark of humanity is adaptability, so pulling yourself up by the bootstraps it kinda the only way to go.

Life for me hasn't been all bad. I'm 85% sure that I'm in love, which is pretty neat. Probably more then 85% but I digress. I've been mostly on my grind, though less effective then I really want to be. Somehow I've been set adrift. I have a very general idea of who I want to be but damn that shit gets foggy if you're not careful.
Right now all I want to do is drive around with the windows down blaring indie music. Pick up my friends and go to little seaside cafes. The ultimate problem with this plan is plain to see; said friends have lives of their own.
I guess it kinda feels like everyone knows what their doing and I'm just kinda stuck here. All parts of me want to follow my dreams and just say fuck it. However, there is a sense of reality about me still since I surround myself with mainly logical thinkers. I just want to be happy.

Wait- that's not to say I'm not happy right now. This has been one of the best periods of my life. I'm making enough money to support my lifestyle and also give to my friends. I have such a loving boyfriend (He really makes my eyes glow.) I'm also the most comfortable with my looks and my body that I've ever been. I just don't feel like I have a future planned out right now.
Said boyfriend told me that I need to focus on the here and now, maybe he's right?

That's all I have for this, I realized that I hadn't updated anyone in a smidgen to what's going on behind the curtain.

.// Playlist \\.

Fight Sleep - Dagny

Washed Up Together - Knox Hamilton

Drive - Oh Wonder

Talk to Much - COIN

Stupid for You - Waterparks

-Vand.

The Way They Look (10.12.16)

When she looks at him,
She sees infinity and simplicity wildly intermingling.
When he looks at her,
He sees magic and ingenuity hurricane spiraling.

They brush glances like soft fingers trailing
On the curve of a cheek.
Or the quite laughter at,
Some word misspoken.

She loves so deeply,
Her heart a stormy sea.
He loves so fully,
His mind always at ease.

Though you wouldn't see it,
If you saw the two apart.
Watch them move together,
You'll know they're of one heart.

Consort of the Witch (7.16.16)

He leaves kisses like embers
On paper pale skin.

He worships this universe,
And it caresses away his pain.

Under the silver moon there is clarity.
In his body, in his mind.

The tempest heart is stilled.

The liminal space between their
Intertwined fingers

Is where adoration
And Affliction meet.

(5.3.16)

Allow me to speak your praises,
To carve your success out of
My skin.
Let my sacrifice be your original
Sin.
Let the sky thunder and crash
Wondering what storms would come to
Pass.

Greek Tragedy (6.16.16)

Come to me all lovers.
For I know how this
Story ends.

Live in me unhappy
Hephaestus.
With your rough
Hands,
And wide eyed fury.

Sing to me downtrodden
Apollo.
Let your cries end
At my bosom.

Kiss me sad
And lonely.
Until you feel whole.

Refractory (6.29.16)

He is a child of the sun,
Spurned by a world who would not know him.
His heart is warped wood,
Rotten in some places but still beating.
He still pulses with light.
Whispering to the stars above to
Deliver him from the ache of living.
What he doesn't hear are the stars,
In hushed tones the remind him of joy.
The light shimmer of dew on grass
The droplets reflect the brilliant saccharine orange that reverberated through the mountain tops.
The way clouds roll lazily overhead. 
The fresh scent of wet earth after an unexpected storm.
He weathered that storm, 
And finally he sees the sun on the other side.

Aching. (6.14.16)

There is a bone deep tiredness,
I am washed in.
Bathed in emotions.

A pain so vibrant in its'
Rainbow hue.
People crying.

Tears like acid,
Burns the skin of a nation.
A familiar ache.

Promise it will never happen again,

As we count our dead.

As we consoul the living.

Gaslighting. (6.3.16)

I am searching.
I am looking for answers in between lines of code.
Strings of data attaching me,
To the Earth like
Anchors.

I am lost.
I am wondering hapless in the night.
Groping around in the darkness,
For a hand to pull me up.
Away.

I wish for little.
Love in the form of
Soft kisses
And 'good nights'.

Why is it
That my soft heart melts
At the sound
Of a blazing gun?

Ambient Thoughts. (5.30.16)

Phosphoric bones snap and glow,
Giving the world a brand new shine.

Something is glistening, wet and unruly
In the corner of her eye.

The sun lives inside.
A body, hollowed out.

Somewhere along the way
Her soul left her behind.

Through each hazy rain cloud,
A million new ideals drop down.

An unforgiving world is waiting
For their daily dose.

Surface thoughts hide deeper dreams,
Living in oppressive atmospheres.

She breaks.
Like waves,

Like dawn.