Monday, July 28, 2014

The Pleas Of A Curious Heart


I don't understand the stars anymore.
Even though I've always known
the map to your heart never existed.

I can't find you anywhere, but I need you.
I've never seen you, but I need to.
A diamond in the rough you, you stay hidden.

And maybe this is a good thing…
but this dress can only stay so white,
and my heart can only pump for so long.


And I'm waiting… for our lightning to
strike. This humidity scrunches my hair
and wetens my nose, the same rock shines
through my window with visions of you and I..
that is my only lullaby.



Because going from 100 to 1 is pointless.
Counting sheep was never my style, and
waiting for you continues to be an
unfinished game that never fancied me.





I wish you could take my hand. Come with
me in one arabian night I could show you my world.
In a way that would convince you to stay…here
with me. forever. Our hands and hearts laced for
eternity.

                                           Until these parted plates of our souls shift to form
                                           the perfect puzzle of a romance, I'll wait. I'll wait
                                           for you. As long as you do the same, my darling,
                                           please, do the same.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

The Truth About Love

You didn't write yesterday.

and I keep telling myself it does't mean anything...but songs that don't make 
sense have the greater meaning and the girls with soft hair and no make up 
are the most beautiful..

I keep my mouse on refresh, as if every time I click it sends you a reminder 

to respond. That way I'm not forgotten and the silence acting as tension in 
my chest can release. 


I am convinced that the real killer is love and heart attacks are merely the 
aftershock. Yes drugs cause harm, and alcohol causes damage but love, love
is straight poison....

...because you didn't write yesterday. And I keep telling myself it doesn't mean
anything...I pour myself a glass of reality, tilt my head back, and take the shot.

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Ticking Clock

I remember when dressing the walls with felt markers seemed like a good idea and feeling like Picasso felt like freedom. I remember forcing myself to like the color "dark green" simply because it's the color of my birthstone. But "dark green" got old and it never looked pretty on my color-book pages. I remember sleeping just outside my parents' bedroom doors at night, believing that the monsters couldn't touch me as long as I stayed in that doorway of protection. I was warned about the ones under my bed or in my closet, but Monsters Inc. never taught me about the monsters that twist and play with your heart and mind, those we call friends and even lovers.

I remember when my world looked so small. When I thought the mountains were too big to climb and if you reached the top, you could see China on the other side.
I remember being willing to change the cake and even the entire theme for my own birthday party, just because my "Strawberry Shortcake" invitation wasn't the cool girl in my homeroom's "cup of tea." I remember when going to sleep was a chore and waking up after the sun was expected and not a privilege only given on Saturdays.

I remember getting a "talking to" from Mrs. Calvin, my first grade teacher, after being late to class. Little did she know, I was with my family in AF canyon taking possibly our last family picture with my dad. All due to a sickness that filled and poisoned his body. As if its demons were merely a spoiled orange in a full crate. Eventually, we were all infected. I remember only being seven, when the word 'cancer' reminded me of a small crab, not the probable death of my hero or the cause of emotional and spiritual pain one can only experience when told their husband has a matter of months, if that, and you're on your own.

I remember when we had breakfast for dinner. The eggs seemed to cook better, the bacon revealed its maple muster and the apple juice tasted just a little bit sweeter. 
I remember when nobody was married or moved out. 
When life seemed constant, but never simple. When the world appeared to be perfect, a perfection that could be reflected off the flowers that only grew in April. 

I remember wanting to just be big. I remember asking Time if he could go a little slower. Or maybe even put his powerful hands to good use and reverse the clock. 
But Time isn't a life saver, he doesn't grant wishes or take commands. He is Time. He runs out. He leaves you with memories and "I remember" tales, only to be reminisced. Because at the end of the day, we're the ones consumed by Time and adjusting our watches. 

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Instructions

How to: Break Someone's Heart

Step 1:Get to know the person you're dating.
Step 2:Spend every single day with that person. As much time as possible.
Step 3:Have serious conversations with them.
Step 4:Tell them your deepest secrets.
Step 5:Kiss them.
Step 6:Say, "I love you."
Step 7:Smile, just smile and walk away. As if nothing ever happened.
Step 8:Congratulations! You're task is done.


How to: Mend Your Broken Heart

1.Just Cry. Cry it all out.
2.Sleep. Take a break from the world.
3.Listen to happy music only.
4.Pray. Seriously though, do it.
5.Surround yourself with loved ones. Especially your nieces and nephews. They will brighten your day like none other.
5 1/2.Take all the pictures of you and them or any pictures that remind you of them off your phone. Get them developed. (Costco does a really nice job just btw) Once you pick them up, put them somewhere you can't see them but you know where they are. Delete all of those photos on your phone. When you're ready, throw the developed pictures away.
6.Focus on the future. What you have to look forward to.
7.Smile, leave what happened in the past and move forward.
8.Well done, YOU are now done. You are mended. 

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

The Kid Artist


Jealousy


P.S.
by: Jewel
I wrote those
nice poems only because
the honest ones would
frighten you.

I am beyond jealous of Jewel. This poem is the essence of short and sweet, kind of. I find this poem perfect, especially the title. In a way it's kind of a slap in the face to whoever this was for like: hey, you just got Jeweled.