One day I’ll wake up and my first thought won’t be of you

Of the way you held me

Or the way you gazed at my face as if you could look at me all day

It’ll be a while before before the songs from our playlist don’t break my heart a little

Or remind me that I feel fragile when I’m not

Right now it feels like the sky is falling

The dark void I try so hard to ignore once again started calling

But I had a life before I let you in and I’ll have a life after

Even if it takes some time to replace my fears with laughter

The worst part is the feelings are still there, bleeding all over my lovesick heart

And I wish that I could turn the knife wrenching in my own chest against you

But that’s not who I am, even though I fucking wish it was

So I’ll take solace instead, knowing I’ll rise from this

Stronger, braver, and more beautiful, and in that you played no part.

 Flitting through moments of moving time,                                                                               The gentle breeze tinted with tangerine is the only way I know how.                                 The scent of his jet black hair rustling through through the car window,                          His contagious laugh rippling through the backseat, ricocheting around my ribcage,        The tenderness of his hands on my hair, reassuring me that I’ll forever be the young sapling to his wise Oak tree. 

 This is what love feels like, hearts floating on the edge of a lavender butterfly’s wings,   No different from the soft pollen,                                                                                                     Reminding me that these are the cocooned memories I don’t ever want to leave

There are some moments in life that you know you want to remember forever.

Listening to Angus and Julia Stone while watching the pale purple and orange fade into the blue mirrors

Wishing hard upon the stars that the colors would never pass

And it’s not sadness and it’s not happiness but rather something in between,

That makes you feel nostalgic for a moment that you never knew you needed.

 

Have you ever wondered                                                                                                                What it must feel like to be numb?                                                                                                No I don’t mean the ache in your neck                                                                                          Or the prickle in your thumb

I’m talking about the mind                                                                                                             They say that consciousness is everything                                                                                 And emotions are important but                                                                                             What’s wrong with simply checking out?

To just not be there. Hollow.                                                                                                            Like the stillness of the ocean                                                                                                          Like the sound of the sea.                                                                                                                 Like a carved out shell.                                                                                                                    Like the feather that roams free.

Maybe everyone has something that I just don’t. Some sort of capability or skill that I’m missing. Because I just feel lost. I don’t understand how I can feel that lonely in a room full of people I’m supposed to love. How I can feel that unbelonging with friends that are supposed to care for me but don’t seem to care when I feel like I’m drowning. But there’s no explanation for that invisible wall that gets thrown up, which for some reason cuts me so deep when it barely seems to graze them. Are they faking that laugh too? Because it’s the worst feeling to think that this disillusionment is my own creation. It’s the worst feeling to feel like no one understands.

Jealous- Labrinth
Six Feet Under- Billy Eilish

 

A large window replaces the right side wall of my bedroom, which means I get an amazing view when I have the luxury of waking up after sunrise.

I open my eyes and I see white

I blink a few times, and it narrows to a blur of green

I raise my head up from the pillow, lazily yawn

I gaze into the green leaves and the golden sheen

 

Every time I move my face, the gentle warmth shifts

Turning from pockets of shade, to rays of heat

A smile finds its way to the corner of my mouth

I stretch my toes and make my way around the house.

 

 

There are moments in which one can be so confident of their own existence. Sitting at the top of the cliff, overlooking the bridge. I can see the stream of red lights moving away from me, a stream of white headlights coming towards me. But every once in a while, there’s a gap. Every few minutes there comes a period when there are no cars on the bridge. And that’s the feeling. This stillness. It’s not so much a feeling, it’s more tangible than that. Like a soft, black blanket draped over the river. Like the whole city went quiet just for a second to listen to what you had to say. And then it’s gone. You hear the car zoom ahead before you can see it on the road. As you watch the wires of the bridge, a stranger next to you plucks the strings of a guitar. But when that moment of peace and silence returns, so does that feeling. Reinforcing that I’m here. I’m alive. And just as quickly, it passes. Like it never existed. And then we wait.

The flames lick, devour, engulf the wood
Yellow, orange, tinted with blue
They release the embers like whispers into the sky
The wood crackles, crunches, sighs

I feel the heat caress my face
The sparks fly, inches from my jeans
The smoke burns my eyes, weaving its own way
And yet, I cannot look away

The past tales told here are tangible
One can imagine the stories and the myths
You can almost hear the strumming of a guitar
Maybe the echo of lyrics on someone’s lips

How odd it is to feel so at peace
Next to something so destructive