Extravagant

What a shame that in our greedy pursuits of the unimportant things, humans have lost their sense of wonder. Come, sit down and people watch with me. We can analyze the passerbys who unironically stress about inconsequential details, completely missing the beauty in life.

1993

I laid myself on the couch, cozy in the apartment that smelled like San Francisco air. Between star-brushed skies and city lights, all was quaint and beautiful, as I drank cheap packaged champagne and listened to the cars drive by below. I exhaled, finding solace in solitude.

Elite

What a thing it is to possess the curiosity of a forever teenage soul who falls in love with road trips, heartbreak songs, and the mystery of never growing up.

Hiraeth

There is something so intoxicating about a man who stands over you so calm, cool, and collected, as he unravels you.

Wrapping his hand your throat, he pulls you close and tells you how beautiful you are, as you are screaming through ecstasy. 

Unanchored

This tale could’ve begun a thousand moons ago, and he wouldn't know how to give it a beginning.

A tale that takes him back to long ago...

She was right there, standing on the rocks on a mountain— he was speechless as her hair blew in the breeze. He felt unanchored, as if something had consumed his every thought. Something that he knew in that very moment, started possessing him from inside his soul, enlivening every inch of his routine mind.

He wondered how someone could completely change his entire way of looking at the world. Why his eyes- that passed over a thousand people in his lifetime- halted, and stopped at her?

You could say this tale began with one soul, changing the dimension of thought, changing how he viewed the world, and how he felt love.

After that moment, he felt nothing but her.

Chameleon

She looks nothing like the chaos
she hides inside her tight dress.
She looks like a January midnight
and feels like the slow intoxication
of Tequila.

The stars come out at night
just to hear her whisper secrets.
A single moment trapped in
the moon beam of her gaze
could make a man drop
to his knees in desperation
or defeat.

adjustment

you painted me on a canvas
and hung it in the sky.
you tried to change my colors
but the paint had already dried.
you wanted me to be what i’m not– someone completely new.
but if i ever change myself,
it will be for me – not you.

Era

Historic buildings,
walks through foggy fields,
the smell of old books,
slow dancing in the dark
to your favorite song,
a hand moving hair behind my ear,
poetry, mystery, adventures,
warm wind on cold nights,
you and me,
spiced cider. 

apollyon

He loved me like a demon, rapacious, and ravenous. He was my favorite flavor of sin. Dark, demented, and deep. I could feel his darkness as it pulsed through my veins with one touch. A ring solidified with the hymns of demonic prayers.

Arrival

He whispered, “I will bring back the romance in your heart with the lust in my eyes and the strong grip of my hand wrapped around your throat, and you will be begging to love me more...”

Proprietary

He didn’t just romance her mind or claim her body, he took complete ownership of her mind, body and soul.

She craved his touch in places that cried out deep, dark secrets that she had never before explored.

As his hands peeled away her layers of clothes, his advances stripped her of her ability to withstand him. She closed her eyes and bit her lip as his fingers crossed her skin with deliberate intent, writing his savage poetry upon her body as his territory...

Halcyon

Careful now, I have a tendency to break for people who’s souls glow in a certain way. And I saw it the day our eyes met for the first time. You’re one of those glows. 

Complimentary

How difficult it is to find another human who feels everything as intensely as you do, not everybody understands that.

Warmth

“I want to know you.”
— I am the candles arranged in the center of a dark room, inviting people to walk by me with an inkling of fear of getting burned.

Reverent

She wears wings of fire,
so either you learn how to fly with her,
or go down in flames without her.

Theme

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “But your looks don’t stand a chance to how breathtaking your soul is.”

Rush

When he gently bites your neck, kisses your lips, and whispers into your mouth, “You are mine and I want you.”

Institutionalization

SCHOOL.

A public institution where you wait 7 hours for that bell to ring so you can go the fuck home.

It’s prison for the innocent.

It’s fresh-faced 5-year-olds being abandoned by their parents. It’s kids having panic attacks in the bathroom after practicing lock-down drills to protect themselves against school shooters.

It’s teachers ignoring the bullies, over and over— and teachers BEING the bullies. It’s popping pills at 12 years old and getting fucked up because grades are more important than mental health.

It’s waking up every weekday morning wishing you never did. It’s headaches and ADHD from stress, and tired eyes from lack of rest. And it’s the sigh of relief when the bell rings...until it all starts again the next day.

It’s being taught how to multiply x and y and divide a and b, but not being taught how to do our taxes. It’s being taught about all of Henry VIII’s wives but not being told about the environmental destruction threatening our lives ans how to change it. It’s being educated about safe sex— but not about consent. It’s how far can we push the sexist dress codes.

It’s being force-fed information no longer relevant to the world we live in and being treated like a child— but expected to act like adults when it’s convenient.  It’s the older generation saying ‘kids nowadays’ are lazy, rebellious, and unambitious, when what they really are....is DESPERATE.

Desperate to survive, to learn about real here and now world problems, desperate to escape.

Divergence

I give out only parts and variations of my true self. If you gather up enough of my acquaintances, you might eventually be able to piece it together.

Until then, my identity exists only in fragments.

For every question you aim at me, I’ll launch back two. A conversation will leave you yearning for more, and having learned absolutely nothing. I cloak myself in vague answers. They hang loosely around my figure, never giving away its shape. 

If anyone ever dares to declare that they truly know me, it will be the last thing they ever say. 

Intimacy is vulnerability and it is the deadliest sin. I am not mysterious. I am a fugitive of truth.

Aftertime

Maybe one day, you’ll meet a girl who will talk about the world as if she’s lived a thousand lives, although she has barely even left her own State. She will see things in such a different perspective that you’ll question everything you know. She will describe things in words you’ve never heard, but they sound so beautiful coming out of her mouth that you’ll start using them yourself.

She will be curious and have the wonder of a child who sees things for the first time. She will bring out a passion in you that you didn't know you had, and she’ll make you feel something that you’ve never felt in this life before.

She will be confident, but hide her face and blush when you see her with her hair tied up and no makeup on. Your voice will catch in your throat because to you, she looks like the most beautiful thing that has walked your Earth. She will act a little crazy in the best way, and ignite a fire in your bones that burns so bad it’ll make you want to run for your fucking life.

Don’t run.

Look at her-- even if she’s so bright it burns a hole through your heart. Hold her close even though you’re terrified that if you touch her the wrong way you'll burst to flames. Kiss her so hard that you see stars, and trace the scars on her body, do not let her feel ashamed.

This girl, she will make you feel vulnerable, and it will scare the living hell out of you. You’re not used to losing control, but let the new experience teach you lessons. Don’t run away from what scares you, because you have the potential to be and feel so much more.

Just love her for as long as the universe allows...

Tension

America's lungs are a parking lot with stop signs and bullet casings.

There's chalk in the shape of
a child
a brother
a story
and it dissolves in the rain. 

America's lungs deflate and the stop signs never sleep...

Request

If you give me Time and she wasn't asked for, I will tear apart her smooth vowels and get lost in the clicking sounds of her consonants until I'm so far gone that nobody will know if I will return. 

If you give me Time and she's unwilling,
I'll excuse the disaster that I cause and I'll claim that she asked for it, begged for it even. I'll lay her soul out bare, completely vulnerable, and ready to be devoured.

You see, Time claims.

She ingests our feelings and actions,
and if I don't destroy her first,
she will eat me alive.

Armor

I want you to undress me to the sound of all your defenses collapsing...

reasonable

Shhh, don’t speak. I can read your thoughts in your eyes, sense them in the way you hold my hand. I know what you want to say when you hold me tight and can’t seem to let me go.

Sometimes we’re better off enjoying the silence, and filling the space between the lines. Letting the unsaid things talk.

We don’t have to give it a name as long as we both know that we’re in over our heads.

Sometimes words simply aren’t needed.

Orange

It is 1947 and I am driving through Southern California in a pale blue convertible with a boy who has an amazing jawline drawing on a cigarette next to me. Jazz plays softly from the radio, mixing with the lazy summer breeze and the salty beachside air. My heels are in the backseat— we don’t know nor care where we’re going, and I am madly in love once again.

groundwork

deep conversations over coffee made just right. interpersonal synchronization. unplugged version of life. people who teach me something new. forever expanding my mind. take me on a mental trip.

Metaphorically Speaking

I'm not really here. I am physically, but metaphorically I’m not. I just exist sometimes. Occasionally I'm present, but the majority of the time, I am not. When you see my eyes drifting, I'm not wondering, I'm wandering. I'm seeking. I'm observing. I'm listening to the wind. I’m watching the leaves dance beautifully to it’s command. I'm grasping the moment of simplicity. I'm grasping time. I'm feeling everything. I'm understanding. I'm not here nor there, but elsewhere in between the metaphoric hologram.

lines

there are some people who will never understand my arrangement of words or why I write in the first place.

it is not to make sense of the world around me, but to make sense of the world inside of me. i am a whole universe, a collection of galaxies undiscovered.

to read what I write you have to rewire your brain to the interpret the language my heart speaks. 

principle

windswept hair, shirts not buttoned quite right, but i’m late for lunch so i don’t care. long nights and longer mornings with coffee made just right. cinnamon candles burning behind conversations about Plato’s divine madness. wine stained lips debating over Latin etymology, or computer code, or whatever comes to mind. i want to be so fucking exhausted from sheer knowledge...and enjoy every single minute of it. i want to be pretentious, and to be a mess because, why not?

Center Stage

I believe that the moon is different in each part of the world. I want to stalk the moon across every major city of every continent. I want to see how low it hangs over the busy streets of Tokyo. I want to see it eclipsed over the Grand Canyon. I want to see it play with the Northern Lights. I want to see a double moon from the ancient remains of Rome. I want to see it everywhere I can.

melody

the churches are burning, but I can hear the bells louder than ever before. i can feel the heat as it closes in. i’ve never seen a rage as soft as yours. the flames lick at my skin...but I lean into it. 

Exclusive

She unbuttons her blouse in morse code. She lets her hair down like leaves falling in an Autumn breeze. Beneath her layers you find lace and lines connected in puzzles that you still haven’t deciphered. Even the way she kisses is a mystery. You have yet to unlock her lips. And although her skin is familiar to your touch, what hides behind her eyes is foreign.

coffee thoughts #812

i want to wake up to the sound of an accordion playing through open windows on the quiet cobblestone streets of Venice. i want to walk the alleyways to a local coffee shop and order a chocolate biscotti. and as the night falls, i want to lay on the rooftop under the moonlight, and drink red wine while taking in the beauty of the starry night sky.

TIME

Imagine there is a bank that credits your account each morning with $86,400. Every evening, the bank deletes whatever part of the balance you failed to use during the day.

What would you do?

Use every cent?

Of course you would. 

Each of us has such a bank.

Its name is TIME...

Every morning, it credits you with 86.400 seconds.
Every night, it writes off as a loss,
whatever of this you have failed to invest to a good purpose.

It carries over no balance.

It allows no overdraft.

Each day, it opens a new account for you.
Each night, it burns the remains of the day
If you fail to use the day’s deposits, the loss is yours...

You must live in the present

on today’s deposits.

The clock is running darling...

Make the most of today.

Everything is beautiful

I find everything beautiful…

Like two cars swapping lanes at the same time, or a winding trail of ants, the way leaves slowly dance as the breeze blows, the way a door creaks on its hinges when I slowly open it, or the the way sun rays fall perfectly onto the pages of my book through the window at 6:30 in the evening. 

my name

i never really liked

my name much

until i found out

what it tastes like

when you sigh it

into my

mouth...

the collection

There are a few people in my life, that I keep very close to my heart. I always make sure to keep one saved voicemail from these loved ones, so that if something ever happened 
to them, I would still have 
the sound of their voice
 to carry around with me
 in my pocket. 

Whenever I admit this to people, they laugh as if it’s 
a trivial thing to do,
 and then when what I’ve just said sinks in
 and their smile disappears, I can see my words reflect in their eyes.

"Oh," they respond. “I never thought 
to do that...”


I can see them trying to pull 
out the sound of their dad’s voice
 from the shelves of their memory,
 the words, “I’m proud of you, bud”
 playing over and over again in their head.

And that’s when I know, that the
 next time their loved one calls asking what
 time they’ll be home and fits in a quick
 "love you" before hanging up,
 they’ll think twice about
 pressing delete.

push replay...

curled up in your arms

hiding beneath the sheets

skin to skin for hours.

no need for words,

just forehead kisses

skipped heartbeats

your smile, then mine


your lips, then mine

like a movie...

push pause. push replay. 

head on your chest. 

the beat of your heart

and rhythmical breathing

quieted my every thought.

her

There’s oxygen all

around you and yet

you're still standing in

the middle of nowhere

struggling to breathe.

the story

her goosebumps were like braille,
and he read her everyday of his life
while others were blind to her story.

redoubtable

With the tongue of an angel,
and a body more than capable
of doing the devils work,
my soul contains
more than enough beauty
to comfort you for eternity. 

Detailed

She intoxicates him.
Her eyes indulge him
like champagne,
her lips burn
like brandy.
He gets high
off her attention.
If he’s not careful,
he may drown in
the thought of her. 

Lemon Yellow

light glowing through the curtains at as dawn breaks. confetti sprinkles. wind blown hair, brush it out of their face. slow breaths on a cliffside. feeling the sun on their skin, but it’s not overwhelming...it’s perfectly warm, and it feels like home. birthday parties and funny hats. silk ribbons. nightlights, fireflies and streetlamps. dancing in the street. the softest laughter. hope is the balance between light and darkness, and they know there is time enough for both.

one

I don’t know how or why

you feel so familiar to me.
How every smile,

and every whisper
makes me wonder

if I have known you before.

Familiarity.
It's beautiful. 

Maybe I have

loved you before,
in another time,
a different place,
in some other existence.

actualization

I don’t want
to look “pretty”.
I want to look
otherworldly,
mysterious,
witchy,
adventurous,
wickedly sensual,
and slightly threatening.

my favorite part

My favorite part is before it even starts.

That moment when

you don’t have them wrapped
around your body just yet,
but you can feel everything else,

their breath on your neck,
their whispers in your ear,

their hands exploring your skin,
electricity surging through your body,
the power in the small space where your lips should meet.

In a way, you don’t want to touch them at all...
because the tension between the both of you is too intimate,
too beautiful and so intense it's almost dangerous.

Like fire and gasoline. 

Watching them become thirsty for you,
as if they haven’t tasted you for days, is enticing. 

This is the moment

you feel the most wanted,
the most amazing, the sexiest.

This is the moment you feel like that woman you’ve seen in movies.

And finally...

when they can't hold out any longer,
and you feel them wrap themselves around you,

begging you please baby,

that's the moment when you know,
this night is going to change their perspective...forever.

redemption

I once was a man’s angel,

but failed to see the trident behind his back.


He stripped me of my halo,

and used it to tie my own hands above my head. 

His eyes glowed like a votive candle,

that promised me redemption.

God turned his back on me when I prayed for forgiveness.

So I moaned scriptures to the Devil,
as he confessed his sins between my thighs.

And I wondered if Mary ever felt a sacrament so sweet. 

Baptisms were made between our tongues,

and I pleaded with the Saints to give me strength,

but they all condemned me to Hell.


Damnation felt like heaven
when he pulled the rosary around my neck,

and I wanted to take him in me like the body and blood of Christ.


The holy communion never tasted as righteous as him, and I pleaded for the last time...

“forgive me Father for I have sinned”

but even Jesus knew I couldn’t be saved.


So he bent me over church pews,

and asked if I wanted to feel salvation.
I got down on my praying knees,

and begged him to make me unholy.

spilled thoughts #715

Sometimes I cannot write for fear of my embryonic thoughts spilling on to the page like roadkill. Raw and fragmented. Flesh sprawled out. Real and provocative, yet unfamiliar...

Affinity

Someone once told me that every person is a chemical. Some chemicals can mix and coexist, other chemicals can’t even get near each other’s fumes without exploding. Some chemicals come in contact with each other, and nothing happens, others hit it right off. And some, should be kept on opposite sides of the earth, if possible.

He glanced down, then slowly raised his eyes to meet mine and said “It just so happens we’re two chemicals that can’t be kept apart.”

the fall

caressing death between 
her thumb and index finger,

she playfully asked him for a light.

her eyes sparkled like champagne,

and her smile was like pure cocaine.

he had never been fond of

promoting self destructive habits,

but he found himself

reaching for his lighter

and falling for her anyway.

Tick Tock

- Time.

It’s like a movie.

We are all watching it beginning to end. Some of us fast forward/rewind to our favorite parts, others are stuck watching terrible acting. Some of us are directors. Some of us are stars.

But in the end...

-we all get cut from the script.

acquirement

being alone, luxuriously immersed in doings of your own choice. aware of the fullness of your own presence rather than the absence of others.

solitude is an achievement.

receptivity

You see, some things I can teach you. Some you learn from books. But there are things that, well, you have to see and feel.

comfort food

messy scribbles on polaroids. memories tinted with gold. 80s music. a road trip with your best friends. the sound of cracking open a cold soda. a shell from a beach five summers ago.

detachment

We were all humans until media blinded us, race disconnected us, religion separated us, politics divided us and wealth classified us...

recapitulate

“Begin.”

It was a simple command, spoken quiet and firm. Her eyes locked with his, an intense moment in which she could challenge him, or relent. Their connection burned deep. She knew there wasn't really a choice at all. Slowly, she leaned back against the wall and spread her legs.

He sat in his leather chair and waited as he casually held his glass of Bourbon. He was still fully clothed from a day in the office. A sharp contrast to her naked skin. Of course he knew she recognized this as a show of power exchange. He always knew. And he was always in control.

"Now..." he warned, and she knew this was her last chance.

Her hand slid down between her soft thighs. Her head turned to the side, avoiding his intense stare. Her skin warmed and a flush spread across her as her fingers began to circle and dance. Her pulse quickened, her heartbeat a percussion in her ear. Moans escaped her shy mouth, as she bit her lip to quiet them. Her back arched with pleasure as...

"Stop."

Her hand froze. It wasn't a question but an order. Her eyes darted to him and she wanted to scream. He knew she was on the edge of pure satisfaction. He raised his glass an took a drink- eyes still fixated on her. He licked his lips after to savor the smooth taste.

He waited.

Still and focused, like a predator watching his prey. 

Just as her heartbeat began to slow, breathing faded, and her thighs relaxed, he spoke again.

“Begin.”

intrusion

if a queen 
leaves her castle
,

unguarded 
for only a second,


it can crumble


and it can fall


besieged by traitors

and savages.


you see now
,

why I can’t 
let you in...

spellbinder

He knew why he wanted to kiss her.

Because she was beautiful.

And before that-

because she was kind.

And before that-

because she was smart and funny.

Because she was

exactly the right kind

of smart and funny.

Because he could imagine

taking a long trip with her

without ever getting bored.

Because whenever he saw

something new and interesting,

or new and ridiculous,

he always wondered

what she’d have to say about it-

how many stars she’d give it and why....

conclusive

illusion deludes us into believing what's not really there. it makes us mistake faith for projection. disillusionment is a prerequisite of modern living that you seldom meet, until it's too late.

Earthbound

Flight control to ground central,
identified object within view.
Locked and requesting permission to engage.

permission granted

First impression:
unknown appears hostile, 
possibly rational.
There’s a response to probing signals sent.

Object is sentient and non-violent.
Agenda undetermined, pending contact.
Heartometer shows abnormal passion level fields.

Beaming aboard to ascertain…

dark moon

She is both, hell fire and holy water. And the flavor you taste depends on how you treat her.

Concrete

No matter how much time we spend with others, we’re all strangers until our souls are connected. Time doesn’t affect our souls in the same way it affects us. Souls live forever. It doesn’t matter if you knew a person for a day or a decade, it’s the soul that dictates your connection.

#208

When I walk, it’s not alone. My angels and my devils walk behind me, no—with me. And when I turn to talk with them, I see they are one in the same. They can be vile, or they can be beautiful. It’s up to me after all.

Lawless

Growing up, I played by the rules, until I learned to question their existence. It was then, that I was truly free.

coffee for two

He flashed a smile and said, “Darling, please forgive me for not remembering your name, for my mind was thinking about the divine things your body could possibly do to mine.”

delicate

I used to dislike being sensitive. I thought it made me weak. But take away that single trait, and you take away the very essence of who I am. You take away my conscience, my ability to empathize, my intuition, my creativity, my deep appreciation for the little things, my vivid inner life, my deep awareness of others’ pain, and my passion for it all.

options

There are two kinds of love in this world—one that makes you forget the life you live, and one that makes you want to live your life all over again.

Network

Let me empty your thoughts, and slowly undress your soul. Lay yourself bare to me and let me see your raw feelings, your unfiltered naked emotions. Then, and only then, when you're ready and feel that I'm worthy of your trust, I will make love to you without a single touch. An intimacy that others only know of from hear say. An intimacy so intense, our souls will merge.

freedom

She is a paradox. She is committed and yet relaxed. She loves everyone, and yet no one. She is sociable and also a loner. She is gentle and yet tough, she is passionate but also platonic. In short, she is predictable in her own unpredictability.

dirty veil

Nostalgia is our blanket.
And we huddle ourselves
closer to keep warm.
The night is freezing,
and we only have this one.
Snow won't come,
and neither will the stars.
So we daydream
of all but the future.
Sitting at the edge of the world,
we just might watch it end.

All day, everyday.

What you say reels me in. Every time. Your mesmerizing eyes don't hurt, either love. And that laugh, my God, infectious. The way you love me is amazing. YOU are amazing. But honestly in the end, it's your beautiful soul that makes me want to stay. All day, everyday. A soul that radiates love and happiness like tiny beams of sunshine to brighten my day, no matter what kind of clouds are following me. You make me happy. We are one. Forever.

Blank Wall

Two things prevent us from happiness: living in the past and observing others. Quiet that.

midnight thunderstorms

finding home in unfamiliar places, watching raindrops fall & drip down the windowpanes, fiery eyes, feeling most awake in the early hours of the morning, playing music too loud, a love and hate for solitude.

Deep Thoughts #3901

Making someone laugh after they've just finish crying, is one of the most beautiful things to ever exist.

White

blowing curtains. spring breeze. a cup of coffee and early mornings. bright smiles that are always genuine. freshly cleaned mirrors. gentle whispers, they never raise their voice, nor do they ever need to. doves nestling together in trees. always honest. classical piano music, and frames with colored pictures from kids. clouds bringing just enough shade on a sunny day. the only way to treat another person is with kindness, and anyone who tells you otherwise is wrong.

restraint

the things you choose not to say are the things that i listen for the most...

the wine

Some may wonder where I get time to think of things to write. Thets easy. I don’t need to go out of my way, because I think and feel deeply by nature. All that’s left is to record it well. Of course, I could hold back from sharing these writings, but would I rather be the bottle, or the wine?

Always

The things that are just within our reach, the ones we are almost going to get, and then they slip from right between our fingers, those are the things that truly make us wonder who we really are, the ones that truly make us question our worth, the ones we just might think about, forever.

Deep Thoughts #0992

Humans are fascinated by languages, people and places that they don't understand. It's as if they've tried to understand the things around them and they just want to get lost in things they can't comprehend anymore, just like the when they were kids. The childhish curiosity and fantasy, to find something completely new, to conquer more, to grow more.

calendar

i.   there are days when my stars align just for me. my inner cosmos telling me to write about everything. my inner cosmos telling me to expand the universe within.

ii.   there are days when my stars collapse. i am made of pure darkness. i am made of pure anxiety— terrified of not seeing the sun again.

iii. there are days when my stars rise—   like the infinite suns that they are. illuminating my being.

reference

You have so many layers, that you can peel away a few, and everyone’s so shocked or impressed that you’re baring your soul, while to you it’s nothing, because you know you’ve twenty more layers to go.

the summit

I am building a stairway to the stars. I have the authority to take the whole of mankind up there with me. That is why I write.

navy blue

waiting for the stars to come out. rain boots. blankets wrapped around them. movies on the couch, but they hardly pay attention, the conversation is more interesting. the whistle of the wind. classical music for hours and hours. plaid shirts and jeans. wind blown hair. the smell of lavender. staring into the dark, wandering among their thoughts as they try to go to sleep. they are explorers, but of a new kind.

anxiety

disruptive thinking
it fuels the dysfunction,
invasive patterns.

venomous

“I don’t just want to fuck you”, he whispered. “I want to own you to your core. Then that will make fucking you, that much sweeter. I am going to show you just what pleasure is, watch you moan, and then break you. I will worship all of you, my hand around your throat, as I bathe you in beautiful screaming pain, then gently hold you and kiss your tears at the very end.”

approach

From the very beginning you are constantly being told to compare yourself with others. It’s a disease, like a cancer that goes on destroying your very soul because each individual is unique, and comparison is never possible. Fuck what society tells you. Fuck conformity. 

cold fiction

In order to be unattainable
you must first know
who the fuck you are.

taupe

soft shoes left at the door. the flicker of a lightbulb at midnight. coffee stains. pictures hung with pins on the wall, slowly becoming dusty, but they’ve always been there. a ticking watch. the musty smell of morning after a night of rain, and it may rain again, but the melancholy is too beautiful to wish away. they know how to let the rain come, and to love it when it does--to watch the light make patterns through the smudges on the windowpanes.

#504

Sins turn boys to men.
But men sin to remind themselves,
they were once young.

the senses

If you want to seduce my heart,
start with the eyes.
If you can’t get me to look at you,
move me with your words.
If I don’t listen, invite me to dance.

archives

there’s no one who will love you more furiously. a fire in a heart- bursting through the veins. darling, I gave you immortal life. sewed your soul to the page.

distinct contrast

He found me ravaged,
and gently tucked me
back into place.
That’s just how he is.
Unlike thieves who steal,
he saviors...

Spoonful of honey

My goal in life is to occupy an abandoned castle in the European countryside, keep a giant rose garden, only wear long flowing dresses, and become local folklore.

Unfamed

Sexy as hell,
enigmatic,
unpredictable,
which is to say,
the absolute best.
Untouchable.
Uncaring.
God Damn Yes.

reminder

life isn’t going to go the way
you want it to all the time.
you can prepare, hope, and pray.
but your best bet is to keep
your fingers crossed and be open
to all possibilities life throws your way. release your need for control. 

the storm

I will bruise your lips,

and scar your knees

and love you too hard.

I will destroy you

in the most beautiful
way possible. 

darkness inside

i find myself fascinated with people
that have a darkness inside of them,
a darkness that is both terrifying
and beautiful....

i want to touch their souls.
and have it slide though
my fingers like mud.
scoop it into my palms like rain.

i want to feel what they have felt.
i want to know why darkness clings to them
like a shadow they cannot shake
and i want to know why i am drawn
to these shadows more often than
the soft glowing souls that
flicker around me like fireflies.

i'd like to know what someone feels
when they dive into my soul....

Covered

Love blinds you. It’s crazy because you don’t even realize it. You fall in love with someone and everything they do is beautiful. They’re absolutely perfect in your eyes. They could hurt you so many times and you’ll still find yourself making excuses for them. Love makes fools out of all of us.

beneath

Faking smiles is easy,
like slipping on jewelry. 
I know what you want 
to hear from me...

I free pretty lies
from behind my teeth.
Painting has always
come naturally.

My aura is brushed
in shades of purity,
a societal masterpiece. 
But if you could see
what lies underneath,
I promise you’d never approach me... 

variety

We all are a beautiful mixture
of angels and demons,
it just depends on which one
you choose to feed. 

Output

“Aren’t you afraid of my darkness, darling?” he asked with mischief in his eyes. 

“No,” she replied, “You haven’t even seen mine yet.”

spilled thoughts

The things I find
most beautiful
about a person
are almost never physical.

sequel

Tell me again
how your mouth
will feel like the
sweetest poetry
gliding over my skin. 

smokescreen

i remember way too many
small details about people,
so i have to act dumb sometimes,
so i don’t freak them out

Compose

It's just human.
We all have the jungle inside of us.
We all have wants and needs and desires, strange as they may seem.
If you stop to think about it,
we're all pretty creative,
imagining all these fantasies.
It’s like a kind of poetry...

vitreous

When men look at her, they are not thinking of dinner and a movie. They are not thinking roses and a moonlit stroll on the beach. They are envisioning their hands tightening ropes around her wrists, biting her neck while taking in the fragrance of her hair just before ripping her clothes off and fucking her mercilessly. 

Visionary

He made love to her on paper.
They spilled ink like passion
across the sheets.
He caressed her curves
in every love letter.
He kissed up and down her thighs
in short sentences and prose.
He tasted all her innocence,
without a spoken word.
He bit her lip and pulled her hair
in between the lines.
He made her arch her back and scream,
and it only took a pen....

Abounding

I could never love
different people
in the same way....
My love has all
different versions,
all different meanings.
I’ve never experienced
the same love twice
and I never will. 

Cultivated

He wraps her hair in his fist,

he pulls her head back
as he runs his tongue
up her neck...

Beads of sweat cover
his wanting body.
His lips marking what is his
for the night.

“Baby, spread your legs and let me show you how badly I want you to 
come 
here,” he breathes into her ear. “Take my fingers into your mouth, and let me feel you from the inside while your body is pressed against mine.”

The things I want to do to you.

“Let’s see how long you can handle my hand around your neck. 
Lose your breath and I will breathe it back into you between your thighs. 
I have a way like God, and baby you are begging me to destroy you.”

“Don’t be gentle.” she whispers as he pins her down on the bed.


“Why would I, darling?” he says while biting her lip.

Goddammit.

“Watch how easily I flip you over and hold your head down. 
Can you feel how wet you are for me? 
Can you feel me deep inside of you? 
Your body is a soundtrack, and I am ready to make it scream and whimper my name. 
Poetry will spill from your mouth, as you write love letters with your nails down my back. 
You body holds the secrets inside , and it will tell all when my teeth are running along your skin. But baby, when I sink myself inside of you and my tongue is dancing along that sacred place, 
you will realize why you write poetry. 
The way I fuck you will have you spilling our secrets to people you have never met...”