rude awakenings

you told me I have the look of a goddess in my eyes You have the look of a child. it’s a youthful amazement that never dies you’re young, you’re free, you’re wild

When you know you’ve found your friend, bestfriend, teacher, playmate, a real pal, your prince, your savor, your dad, your boyfriend, your husband, and you know you’re happy and satisfied with everything…that’s love. Anonymous

Do you still have doubts that us having faith make any sense? [I hope this brings me lots of controversy] I lost my faith years ago. I thought I was broken. I believed hell would burn me because God turned his back on me Because I turned my back on Him. Even at a young age, when my friend took me to her church, and we sang lovely ditties about how this God was wondrous; 'Our god is an awesome God. " "Our god of peace will soon crush Satan'" No, your god is a hypocritical god. even at age 10 I could see the stupidity in it all. And I left that church and never went back. But they did succeed by planting that seed of fear. The 'what if' of the existence of this all powerful, judging God but more importantly the 'what if' of hell. That's how they hook you. I Swear there ain't no heaven and I pray there ain't no hell, Living in fear of hell instead of living for the love of God. Now I know it's not a problem with my ability to believ...

I want to write a poem that embodies you. That can appease what's long overdue. Finally let out all this pent up emotion and feeling a clamouring commotion that leaves me reeling. I’ll transform it into phrases I'll be writing words that daze and amaze us. It will translate your smile with words so versatile, that the hours trying to sew the words into a patchwork perfectly fit to cover you Able to soothe you, and transform the coldness you've let seep into your bones into the warmth of a kiss, telling you you're stronger than this, Will be worthwhile. But you know it's starting slow. Like the birth of this very earth from primordial stew, And I can’t sit through the millions of years it took in which microbes grew. To think, it took 3.9 billion years to build something as beautiful as you. And when I only have the attention span of a few hours I don't have the power to create an immaculate portrait of you. my vocabulary is too limited even with words like melli...

Age is just a number, and I know I'm young but I believe I feel what you feel. " Ain't so hard to recognize - These things are clear to all from time to time" I feel like this is a seed, this is the everything-we-need, and through every waking hour the leaves uncurl and the roots of something bigger than ourselves unfurl, making their way through my veins, my heart beats like a speeding train, feeding this creation that flowers in my brain, creating a scent that only you can smell. Because its perfume is built on the love we know so well. And branches escape through every pore of my skin, reaching to let you in, searching for your grin. I want your heart to beat in time with mine, want the shine in your eyes to sing the harmony that words can't define. I want my empty flowers to be met with the lonely bees searching for their lovers, carried on the breeze on the chance that they'll bring a part of you on their wings. And that I can bear the fruit of this union...

the beauty words I feel beneath your skin, the sheets of music, lucid and thin your eyes and all the phrases that appear with no sound or movement, yet I can hear. The heat that exudes, your fire feeding mine the blood that flows, the energy that intertwines creates these threadbare tapistries covering the walls of gurantees of this room we built on feelings with strong walls but no ceilings so we may sleep beneath the stars alive in each moment because it's ours.

your smile fizzes inside me as your words dissolve entering my bloodstream, bursts of bubbly energy liquid sugar high.

You make me real. Breathing into this hollow body the life of a melody. My body snug next to yours, your fingers along my neck. My curves crafted to fit you perfectly. Permeating warmth through these silver strung veins. I want your touch to wear my varnish thin I want to feel your breath melting the frost of my skin.

I know what I should be doing. What I'm not doing . Of the teetering pile of faceless obligations, the assignments and reports, the time needed to succeed, this does not belong. I'm stretched thin, covering too many bases half heartedly with the fear of failure instead of from a love of success. I told myself, mindlessly, that I could do this. I tell myself, emotionless, that I can do this. It's not a matter of wanting and not wanting, but of can and cannot. Life does not revolve around silly wants, of dreams and fairy tales. No life is wound with filaments of rigid to do lists. A checklist bored into our eyes and seared into our very mind frames. So much so that we put up with it. Day in and day out, on the hope and the belief that there will be solace at the end of this ride. But this is not a road to a new destination. This is an elevator, going down down down. Just pushing you farther into that cold cold ground, and with each meter you pass the chance of getting back ...

Looking back I was always afraid of my imperfections. Afraid of the conditional love I lived under, I squirmed in my ragged skin. Pockmarked on the outside, blemished on the inside. Predisposed for chemical imbalances, in accepting my fate I made it a reality. I felt skewed and broken, a cloud of darkness wrapped in layers of pale olive skin. I took silence as a bad thing, afraid of the thoughts formulating in the observer's eye. I kept half of me hidden in shadow, afrad what the light would reveal. Afraid to be myself because I'd be lonely. No one would stay once they knew how I could really be. And what was that? I was no devil, no schemer. I had no dark thoughts that merited scorn. I was nothing that needed hiding. Yet I was concealed; I was living a masquerade of generic precedences. I can't remember the reasons I convinced myself with. Looking back, it all seems so silly. Hidden in a caccoon of my own trepidations, I was waiting for someone to break me open, unfurl the...

(via writeoneleaf) You can sky rocket away from me, And never come back if you find another galaxy far from here, with more room to fly, just leave me your stardust to remember you by. The song played in the background as your words took mainstage. You took my hands in yours. “This song describes how I feel perfectly.” I smiled at the sweet nothings, a sucker for romantic antics. But the meaning of them never made it’s way fully to my brain, the words were never digested by nerve pathways and stored in the memory bank of understanding. To me it was just another phrase, another one of your statements I didn’t believe. But you believed it to be true, only because you knew I wasn’t going anywhere, you knew you didn’t need to worry about letting me skyrocket away. I saw the way you coveted my warmth, grasped with your fingers to keepe me close. Acting in a way that betrayed your words, you spoke an unknowingly hypocritical statement. You had no imagination, couldn’t fathom that I would one...

school is making my head explode. my social life imploding, battery acid calculators corroding burning holes in broken skies burning tears in hollow cries stiffled sighs. thinned out over too much space thinned out till I leave no trace too quick of a race I can't win if I don't get stronger. I can't keep up at all -not for very much longer- watch me faalll