reminiscing over late-night moonlit drives with my sister by soul. the dark around us cradled the secrets we shared between pillows and blankets as little girls. didn't the world look so much smaller then? feel so much lighter on our tongues? I love walking through frail paths with you. you never doubted my strength and never scrutinized my weaknesses. sometimes you by my side is all I need to feel I can take on the world.

I am all moonlight and shadows, dreams and open skies tonight. I am remembering childhood and who we were becoming, who we were meant to be. Tonight we will rest easy.

“you think with your heart”

like warm rays your words trailed the goose bumps on my skin

You have always said that of me.

You with your unnerving Soul and tender gazes

“..and you with your mind.”

You sat watching the ocean as a boy

And let it settle in the black of your eyes

With a heart so wide open,

It left insensitive hands to leave footprints upon it


You said thunderstorms reminded you of our love

All the force of lightening

all the softness of rain

you said you had stood still

for years

by that ocean,

this was the first time since then,

you shifted.

love letter.

today I want to make a promise. a promise to ease and heal the soul;
I promise to get to know Love in all forms. to trust her and let her stay. to pick away shrapnels of ego, pride and doubt.

to learn to Love, the way God intended it.

starting today.

short-lived.

.. Is it unusual to begin to find comfort in this storm? It is in the unravelling of Mind, Life, and everything I thought I knew - I am beginning to sense streaks of my own strength. And it is that which is becoming addictive.

Portishead makes me want to get high.

glass houses.

there's a crack in the window you're standing behind with a pebble in your hand.

detox.

i was, i was so sure. and the smoke never speculated much. no pollution of mind or heart or eyes looking towards a crisp reflection.

you think you see the world realistically?
you nurture your cynical truths, unknowingly discoloring the world you walk through. or protect yourself under blankets of mistruths, that your eyes are looking but aren't seeing. you touch his body lying on top of you but aren't feeling. you take in oxygen like its a burden but aren't BREATHING. I watch you as you move, your make up is fresh, not a hair out of place, but your words are hollow and numbing. you have no idea. and you are content, even blissful within your plastic doll house. and if you could empty out the contents of anything close to meaning inside you, I doubt you'd hesitate.

god.

how did we get here?
with every generation stepping foot, our thoughts get thinner and our footing grows weaker. our forefathers stood their feet deep within this earth. and their imprints still map our day time stories.

but tonight, I wonder, we might as well disappear into thin air.

slow tedious little insecurities like insects. like a fly caught in the middle of a window pane, and you have no clue how it got there in the first place, or where to begin getting it out. all you hear is the relentless tittering of its wings.
stupid little thing.

Great Expectations.

Finn: What's it like not to feel anything?

Estella: Let's say there was a little girl, and from the time she could understand, she was taught to fear... let's say she was taught to fear daylight. She was taught that it was her enemy, that it would hurt her. And then one sunny day, you ask her to go outside and play and she won't. You can't be angry at her can you?

Finn: I knew that little girl and I saw the light in her eyes, and no matter what you say or do, that's still what I see.

Estella: We are who we are. People don't change.

The sun is falling into the horizon, yellow streaks turn a tired orange
Your breaths are deep.
You remind me of the ocean.
Vast and deep and godlike.
A potent awareness of your power
charasmatically shaded in humility.
Fashionably sensitive; yet too cool to care.

I turned to say something to you
as orange swirls faded into a haze above us;
but you were miles away.

You do that sometimes, you know.
It is what made you so beautiful to me that night we watched each other.
I didn't know your name
or where you came from
or where you had been.
I wanted to find you,
even though you were never lost.

and I wonder, if life would ever take you to a place too far away,
that you would lose sight of us.

and just before that last tip of sun disappears into the backdrop
you turn to me and smile,
that boyish smile,
and say, "I am still here."

You return, every time.

x