The Artist

I am fascinated by the way people’s eyes change with circumstance. Like when I found myself in Philadelphia at an art gallery and his eyes lit up when I said to him that I thought his art was the most lovely.  Or when I was gazed upon from the empty eyes of a boy who feared being hurt and therefore lived without soul. I would be lying if I said that seeing him again would not make my world come to a stop. At a pier at the edge of the city I watched as he admirably and inquisitively looked onto the water, and I wished that the gentle waves would whisper to me his thoughts. He was authentically himself and that showed in the wonderful things he created and spoke of… however he lacked the confidence and strength needed to want something and take it. I was fooled by his drunken dialogue that translated to my ears as the most profound poetry, or beautiful music that speaks to your soul. I told myself again and again not to fall in love with words but then he said to me that to kiss me is to experience me spiritually. I cannot help the way I twist a handful of weeds and dandelion into fields of lavender. We spoke to each other with our eyes and when he kissed me it was urgent, and then slow. Had I never kissed him that day, in that moment, my life would never have turned upside down. I wanted to give all that I was to him, I wanted to show him my world. I wanted to ride in his car with the fucked up mirror and broken CD player until I didn’t recognize where I was anymore. When he vanished, he took a small part of me with him- the part that felt things so deeply and as free as the air. I opened my heart and soul to someone who disappeared without warning or explanation, leaving me breathless and betrayed. That version of myself died when I woke up to realize that showing someone who you are does not mean that they will love you for it, and that promises don’t mean shit. And if you ask me now who I relate the most to, it would be the broken boy with empty eyes, loving me without soul when my heart just wants to feel something.

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my restless soul

I did love him once, I swear. My love is like a hurricane- it destroys many things in it’s wake. I loved him once and I have proof… me and him, windows down in my car, blasting music as trees waved hello and goodbye from the edge of the highway. The beginning of the end started when my soul decided to not only reach for the stars, but for the sun itself. To go beyond, to transcend. And he touched parts of my restless soul that had been dormant for quite some time… and I felt alive, and I felt electric. I did love him once, his smile once made my world pink and blue like cotton candy. However sometimes love is not enough, and I’m sorry that we no longer fit together like the waves and the shore.

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Under the influence

I need you to hold me as you love me. I want to feel close enough for our souls to talk and our breaths to be intertwined. For me to hear your heartbeat and to see your eyelashes flutter like butterflies in the midst of spring in full bloom. You are honeysuckle- sweet, delicious, absolutely natural, a gift from earth and mother nature herself. Will you save him for me God? I’d like to play in his sky forever.

Oh how I’ve loved

I have fallen in love many times. I’ve loved a boy with a girlfriend, I loved the power that I possessed when I got him alone. I loved my childhood best friend, I will remember our youth and radiance forever. I loved my first pony, her brown and reddish hair blended together like a chocolate sunrise. I loved making intimate eye contact with strangers, and seeing into their souls. I loved the place in which I spent my high school years, the trees would turn from brilliant green to vibrant yellow and my hair would dance with the wind and sun. I loved Sunday, and my mother’s cooking. I’ve loved many things… but darling, oh darling, I’ve never loved anything more magnificent than you.

Was I me, before him? Part 2

There’s something about him that I love so fucking much. He’s so sweet and adorable and pure, so fucking pure. He speaks and he means what he says. He says I love you and I know that he does with every inch of his wild, brilliant soul. He is so honest and he amazes me. Could it be that someone actually saw through the wall of ice leading to my heart? Frozen pieces of time, memories, and hurt encapsulated and fossilized inside of me blocking the entrance to my heart. My heart is as pure as his but I have jungles and mazes and wildflowers… planets and stars and galaxies standing in the way of it. I suppose despite all of that, he thought I was worth it. That’s crazy.

Was I me, before him? Part 1.

Sometimes there are butterflies in my head and they dance around and sing pretty songs. I am typically in my own world without regard to others around me. If someone is fortunate enough for me to let them into my world then they would know what I mean. It’s crazy how people can be 1000 miles away but still see the same sun. Do you watch the same sunrise as me? Do you see the magnificent orange and pink like I do? Do we see the same night sky with stars reflecting off of the moon like a fun-house? These are thoughts that I have.

sleepy baby

This morning I woke before him and the sun had already risen high into the sunday morning sky. I woke before him and watched him sleep, paying attention to every detail. His eyes would flutter and move around under their lids, and his lips would curl into a very subtle smile – was he dreaming of me? I love him and because of that, to me he is perfect. The freckles on his nose tells me that the sun loves him but not nearly as much as I do. His hair is dark brown like my favorite chocolate and his eyes are amber and wild. They turn green when he is in certain light like a kaleidoscope. I woke before him and fell in love with him all again just by watching him sleep.

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