Posts
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seven
I like so many songs that it's almost impossible to choose a favorite, but I do love "Seven" by Taylor Swift. -
Rainy days & white Christmases
I guess the sky likes to cry a lot
these days.
It tears apart the clouds
and pours itself onto the weathered ground
screaming its woes
while people on the Earth
wish for snow.
But it won't come, will it? -
Early Mornings
Winter comes,
the first snow unleashes itself onto the ground,
and when I wake up early every morning,
the world feels dreamy,
like an old movie,
a haze of black and white,
blocking everything else out -
Metamorphosis
Maybe it was the wind whipping my hair every which way,
maybe it was the way ice cream tasted on a hot summer evening,
maybe it was just the delirium of lying there on that cool leaf-covered ground,
but in hindsight, I knew it was you. -
Fiona the Second
Sometimes I wonder if she even remembers me. -
I am enough
Last night, I stood on a stage, my face basked in flashing, colorful lights, and I finally felt like enough.
It took years, didn't it?
Years of hard work, of tears, of overthinking, of doubt.
Loves
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Take a Moment
To you
you who lives among our rainbow hills--
green one moment
orange the next
and always blue in the distance--
you who lives along a river
you who lives looking into sunsets
you and you
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the ending
I'm finishing the story,
How can it be true?
I'm nearing the end;
There is no future to see.
It doesn't feel real
But it is—it's all going to be over.
Months it's been since this world's been right,
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I love you
-Can I tell you something?
(I have a secret, and I am dying to tell you.)
-Yeah, anything.
-I love you.
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poppies are the color of blood
this president can turn even the solemnest of holidays into an opportunity to say whatever he wants. the gravestones crumble in their fields of poppies listening to him speak. all uppercase. all lies.
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amnesia
wrap your laced-up fingers around my throat like you don’t want to breathe,
hold my pupils in your palms. do you want to smile?
amnesia. the brain doesn’t like the watercolour poem of my skeletal frame,
