Proper Order

The day our eyes met, it was crystal clear that the stars had realigned themselves. They spelled out your name and the thousand ways we were never supposed to be....

unconventional

i live my life at cross purposes with society’s established narrative. no milestones will be met in said order, or at the designated time. no categories will be complied with. nothing will be done at the appointed time or even ever. i will repeat some things endlessly and pass all acceptable limits. i don’t care. i will walk backwards through time and spit in the face of any destiny offered to me.

impressions

when reality trips you, daydreams should cushion your landing.

Home

Surround yourself with people you can think out loud with. People who you aren’t scared to share your thoughts with, your insecurities, your failures. People who encourage you to follow your dreams and people who make you laugh so hard your stomach fucking hurts. People who understand you on such a fundamental level, fuck— it’s like coming home.

Antithesis

She was a contradiction. So easy to please and yet only a few could ever truly understand why she was what she was. And even less would love her for it.

Circumstance

Just like that, she retreated into a story she never meant to write for herself.

Adjustment

When people say they have changed— no one ever changes completely. They just become a fuller, and hopefully better, version of themselves.

sustained

i want you so close that they cannot begin to tell us apart.

Chapter 12, page #13

Soul drunk morning.
Skin on skin.
Art between the sheets.
Connection intoxication.
130 mph, exotic car, open highway.
Holding hands, music loud, smiling.
Lunch in the city, eye contact.
Adventure. Art museum by chance.
Stealing kisses in the elevator.
Hands in places they want to call home.
Nothing else matters...

the invitation

when he holds your hand, raises it to his lips for a kiss—like royalty, while maintaining eye contact the entire time.  

oh. my. fucking. god.

Déjà Vu

You felt familiar the moment I met you. A lovely sort of déjà vu. The minute we spoke I became overwhelmed by the powerful sensation we had been here before. And when we kissed, I felt the energy of a thousand lives on your lips, as though our souls had known one another all along.

Embossed

He tasted like a paper cut from my favorite book. I’ve never had something hit my tongue with such a territory to my soul. It was as if he knew me as a word, and kept whispering it until it was pressed deep into my bones.

Home

“‘Kiss me.” she said. And all he heard in his heart was, “I’ve found you, you’re safe now.”

Thermogenesis

He was danger. She was chaos. They were bound to clash marvelously and tragically.

Unchained

He wrapped her safely in his arms and smiled. “Baby, I just can’t keep quiet about you - to friends, to family, even perfect strangers on the street. I want to shout it from every rooftop in every city and town. I want to announce my affections for you with such passion that even the farthest stars will know who you are.”

discontent

we dance with our demons to an endless melody— swaying, sizing up our lover, seeing who trips first.

Absorbed

Love is a drug and you were the first hit. I remember the sting of the needle and the rush of the high. I knew then that you were the addiction I would die for.

discord

I am trying to make every moment count, without throwing myself all over the place, without tearing myself apart. I am trying to make sense of the chaos inside of me, without breaking myself, without killing myself at the end of the day.

Razor’s edge

We walk the line between
destiny and disaster.
The world begs us
to slow down,
but we keep going faster.

Whether we end up
in each other’s arms
or go down in flames,
in their final moments
my lips will be wrapped
around your name.

Cause & Effect

"Baby, I need you."

Content

Love

Happiness

Paradise

Crashhhh....

"Baby, I love you."

Euphoria

Intoxication

High

Excitement

Rushhhh.....

"Baby, I need to see you."

Withdrawal

Depression

Dependency

Cravings

Crashhhh....

"Baby, one more time."

Pleasure

Heaven

Ecstasy

Exhilaration

Rushhhh....

"Baby..."

Irritable

Depressed

Disphoric mood

Angry

Suicidal

Crashhhh....

"Baby, I can't live without you."

Rushhhh...

Receive love, take a loan, get an advance.
Fuck yeah...
Good feelings ridden with debt when you crash.

beauty in darkness

My dark nature is pure white.
I am the innocent.
The protector.
The destroyer.
The unpredictable soul.
The spiritual angel.
Living on the edge.
Living to the fullest.

I seek more purity and beauty in darkness.

Exist.
Express.
Explore...

Unrivaled

There are three types of people you’ll meet in your life.

Type one will run a finger down the index of who you are and jump straight to the parts of you that they only find interesting, ignoring the rest.

The second type will take their time reading through every one of your chapters and fold corners of you that inspired them most, so maybe they can go back and re-read their favorite parts.

It’s the third type that you’ll never see coming. That one person who not only finishes your sentences, but keeps the book, and remembers every chapter, beginning to end, word for word.

Motive

“I have never had a desire to just fuck you,” he whispered. “It was always my intention to own and submit you under a beautifully sadistic pleasure, which would be all you'll ever need...”

Luminosity

the afterglow that he radiates is unlike anything she has ever felt. she is afraid of basking in such warmth and being incapable of finding light elsewhere.

Entropy

He liked it when she was innocent. But when she was wicked...FUCK. 

ignition

In a near voiceless whisper
I could feel his words
tiptoe through my ears,
landing delicately
on my eardrums.
His hushed erotica
was emotionally dangerous,
both to him and myself.

Standard

"I am intimidated by the fear of being average." She said one day. He laughed. "You? You may be many things, but fucking average is not one of them."

"Yeah, but I can’t always be remarkable." She insisted. "What if you wake up one day and decide you are bored?"

He took her hands and pressed them to his lips. "Baby, the only thing I will be deciding when I wake up is whether I should kiss you or let you sleep a little longer. “And,” he added with a grin, "you know I will never be able to resist you."

constant in the chaos

your laughter rolls in like a hurricane. i now understand why people find a thrill in chasing storms.

you’re strong like an earthquake. i can see it in the muscles of your neck as you tilt your head back when i slide my lips around you or in how your jaw tightens before you moan my name.

your thoughts never cease. it’s amazing how much you know about the theories of philosophers who were much less optimistic about our fate than you are.

your heart beat is the only thing about you that is ordinary, a flashing red stop light that slows me down to show me the importance of your existence, yet it is still superior to any other pulse i’ve ever had the opportunity to listen to.  

control

He’s watched her, and it makes him sad. Because greatness is about vision. And she has made herself blind to everything but what her eyes can see.

Duration

Time moves with or without you. It's up to you how you use it. It's up to you how you let people affect how you use it.

High Key

Redundant kisses and mild confessions. Replayed, we get caught up in the moment. The here and now, but there’s nothing like the next, the new. The inner termoil is just a facade, as gratification is painted as selfishness.

Regions

Isn’t it strange how we humans have a way of missing what was never ours?

It’s like the vacant space inside of us could be filled with them.

We think we catch their voice in the crowds, when they’re simply echoing inside of our brains.

What’s that word?

Pareidolia

supply & demand

They asked me for drugs,
so I told them about her smile.

Six Words

6 words from the mouth of a man. “I love the sounds she makes...”

The Hunt

“I’m never satisfied. You’ve fed this wolf too well,” she said. “I barely fit this sheep’s clothing now. Maybe I need to hunt again. Yes, the hunt will sate the other side of me...”

5 a.m.

Coffee is the perfume my house puts on at 5 a.m. when the sun is still hiding...

The Chase

He stood, undoing the buttons of his shirt. 

“Ten seconds,” he said. 

She looked confused. She had expected other words to come out of his mouth like undress or come here. 

“What?” Maybe she had misread the tension in the room. She lowered her gaze to the bulge in his pants.

She hadn’t. 

“You have ten seconds to hide. Then I will seek you out.”

“Your fantasy is hide and seek?” she asked. 

“No. My fantasy is the chase. I am going to hunt you and when I find you, I will bury myself so far inside you, the only thing you’ll be able to say is my name.” 

That seemed fair. 

Tension

“So what are you saying?” she asked. 

He sighed, and brushed his finger along her cheek. 

“Darling, I would burn this world for you...”

infiniteness

Forever trapped between the Romantic era poet vibe where I stand in withering nature and cry over the beautiful philosophical messages in the river while drunk on wine and the Victorian era poet vibe where I sit in my candlelit chamber at midnight with a raven tapping on my window, thinking of the darkness and death and nothing more.

lost and lovely

going into a second hand bookstore and seeing the worn out paperback you’ve been trying to find for months and finding an odd bookmark inside the musty pages feels like fucking divine providence....

ode to autumn

illegible handwriting, coffee rings on notebooks, putting gloves on only to take them off again, sixteen candles (1984), walking outside when it’s not raining enough for an umbrella but just enough to fog up your glasses, sound of crows in the distance, leaves that aren’t quite crunchy, deadlines, pen smudges, leaving work early only to find out its dark outside, church bells, cinnamon, cold noses, swaying trees, full moons, cuffed sleeves, silence... 

93 days

If you are tired of this world,
Hold my hand, sit next to me.
Pour your heart out like a flooding river.
Darling, I am not afraid of crashing seas.

side-step

the longer realizations are avoided, the harder they pound through your chest once they finally strike.

Confessions #151

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered in between kisses. “You’re on my mind even when you aren’t. It’s the craziest thing. I am so overwhelmed and blown away by what I feel inside for you, that all I can do is just give in. I’m not used to being this vulnerable. I’m not used to giving this much of myself to anyone- ever. I’m usually in control, and I’m not, and that’s fucking terrifying to me.”

The honesty in his voice was so moving, fucking powerful.

I inched my body closer towards him, and his eyes were pleading in their beautiful ocean blue beauty. I touched his soft face and said, “Baby, this was the truth I’d spent my entire life hungering for. Vulnerability is absolutely beautiful. And when someone opens up and you can just feel their heart spilling into their words, there’s something special about that, you just let it envelop you completely.”

unreserved

She was enchanting with that tenth-rate kind of charm you can’t help being tempted by, which people feel ashamed of being tempted by, and which he shamelessly- in everyone’s earshot – declared himself tempted by...

witchcraft

I could feel the energy building silently between us as we stood in that room, a kind of pleasurable tension, an expectancy, as if it would’ve taken only the slightest move for something to explode.

There was something exciting about it, and dangerous too.

revelation

The first day I met you your eyes told stories before you ever spoke a word, and those words told my soul that it had finally found a home.

Radiance

I’ve heard them say that wild women are an unexplainable spark of life. They ooze freedom and seek awareness, they belong to nobody but themselves yet give a piece of who they are to everyone they meet.

If you are lucky enough to ever meet one in this lifetime, hold on to her. She’ll allow you into her chaos, but she’ll also show you her magic.

explosive

Mythology 
Biology
Psychology
Anthropology
Empty sky
Endless sea
Awakening to 
the same old 
questions
who or what 
the fuck are we?

burden

There are legacies mixed into our blood, old contracts written in a hand only partially similar to our own.

Generational curses.

We are under no obligation to live in the houses that our fathers built. It’s ok, take a lighter to it’s walls, watch it burn to the ground.

Partial

You don’t have to be at the ocean to drown. You don’t have to be near water at all. Thoughts alone are sometimes enough to drown you...

—We are our own worst enemies.

Confessions

“Mine,” he whispers. 

“Yours,” she breathes. 

divinity

he fucks me like a God. there’s no part of scripture that ever prepared me for him.

his hand delivers communion around my throat while i spare no effort to resist, and his lips whisper the sweetest hymns into my ear as he gently slides inside of me.

he confesses how long he’s looked for a place to worship and, oh how I put him straight onto his knees. as he sinks to the floor and moans like he can’t help himself, i wonder if he knows that his energy coursing through my veins, allows my heart to continue to beat... 

faultless

Your heart beats in my lower spine like a truthful lullaby, while I mark you with smudges of lust. And yet, this desire for temptation, this need to open the eyes of innocence, it’s what the monsters gave me. It’s what I drank the obsidian river for.

We are only human.

So let twisted tongues betray us if they must. We are in Eden, tantalized by eternal life, and oh how our blurred vision is so crystal clear...

elemental

like beautiful sheets of silk, this life unfolds before my very eyes. i run out of hands to savor it. i run out of breath to sing of it. there is too much of everything. it crashes into me all at once.  the perfect balance of hardship and ecstasy haunts my being. there is nothing that can be done to escape the glorious paradox.

Coffee Thoughts #211

I love the Sun.

And I will spend my whole life chasing its rays, drowning in the flames despite knowing that it will hurt in the end. 

Is that not what love is?

To chase what you love even if it hurts like hell, is that not what love is?

fortuity

It’s the possibility that keeps me going, not the guarantee.

lethality

“You speak so highly of him,” he said to her, “Why do you do that? Why do you speak of him as if he put the stars in the sky when he did nothing but break you so god damn much that the cracks in your heart were practically visible through your eyes.”

She laughed, “That’s the thing about love, isn’t it? You’ll let them get away with murder, even if it’s your own...”

Five and Dime

There’s this girl. She’s is a one-stop-shop of orange blossoms that bloom like summer-candy kisses. She only sells to people she likes, and she’s in high demand, so be persuasive. Her prices are outrageous, and not many can offer love, so she takes payments in the form of lies. Why don't you tell her your best one? And she’ll see what she can do...

patchwork

So much of getting older is unlearning and reshaping your understanding of who you are and what you want and need in this short time on Earth. 

black & white

That’s the thing, I’m either absolutely disappointed with the world and fucking hate it, or I find everything I lay eyes on absolutely painfully fucking beautiful. There is no in-between... 

cover

she blushes as her eyes meet his. they both have seen so much more of each other than the half-smiles they reveal to outsiders.

deep thoughts #821

You are a very good reason to sleep through a sunrise. And I know we’ve abandoned stoplights to feel wanted. I’m so used to being lost inside the thoughts inside my own mind. But in another lifetime I was the first snowflake to kiss your nose. I’ll teach you how to find poetry in everything - I’ll teach you how to find it all right inside of you. 

the bridge

You know when you're driving and it's pouring down rain, you drive under a bridge and everything stops. Everything goes silent and it's so peaceful for a split second. Then you finally get out from under the bridge, and everything hits you a little harder than before.  You are my bridge.

departure

when my enthusiasm for love dies out completely, i want them to engrave your name into its headstone.

Six Words

6 words from the mouth of a man. 

“There’s this girl, and I’m devoted...”

penalty

his ocean eyes call me to a world of secrecy and hushed whispers, to a place from which i may never willingly return.
I like him in my system. I need him in my system. But darling, our love has an expiration date...

ascendancy

I used to spend my life tip-toeing quietly, terrified of the possibility that I might disturb someone or something in their respective states of peace. To me, silence was the best gift a person could offer.

I thought existing as a deep serene was what others might want from me—a faint, little thing that could slip into your life without a sound, and leave no waves in the process. No one likes a burden, you see.

Now, my footsteps land heavy and crack ground that they’ve always assumed to be solid. I hope the Earth caves under the weight of my existence, like it is more monumental than every star in the sky.

And when you hear of an earthquake so grand it breaks every scale we have ever come to accept, know that I have finally reached my full potential, as I was always destined to do.

black hole

i like the moon because its subtle glow hides the congregation of freckles on my face.

and when he breathes constellations down my neck, i do nothing to refute the power of my stars.

i am the black hole he’s been searching for for years. with no sense of time or direction, our lips have a passion only for the hungry. 

just two ambitious souls who long to conquer the galaxy with a lover at their right hand.

Grail

He begged to kneel at her altar and drink from her chalice of life.

Stately

The Classics warn us
about charming men
in elegant garments.

The handsome ones
known to deceive with
just a flash of their smile.

The deliciously rebellious,
charismatically wealthy ones,
the infamously brilliant ones. 

The ones with dirty,
twisted, lovely minds,
whose kiss tastes like a revolution.

The ones who cause your heart
to catch fire or something worse— 
maybe a feeling....

The devil is and will always be a gentleman.

evident

it was crystal clear.
and neither one wanted
to be the first to admit it.
so they spoke different words
that meant the same thing. 

Memo

I hate that feeling I get when I am about to leave somewhere, and I know I’ll not only miss the people I love, but I’ll miss the person I am now right here in this very moment, because I’ll never be this exact way ever again.

Zone

That small space between where your lips meet mine is where I experienced your soul magnetize into my body. I could feel the rush as it coursed through my veins. A moment that took my breath away like a high I’d never known existed. It was then, that I knew I wanted our souls to dance and our bodies to write poetry that only we knew how to read.

Elixir

You’ve got your hands around my throat
and I beg you to pull me under.

Lips wet with mercury,
eyes luminous and haunting,
I see in you, the monster in me...

A vicious lover,
deliciously ravenous
and tastefully vulgar.
Bodies glowing with energy,
a love forged in flames.

Haze

There’s this veil between the physical world and the spiritual world that I’ve always been connected to whether I like it or not.

The Target

Humans are so focused on physical beauty, they don't know how much a soul can feed them.

When?

I have this thing where I ask myself how long it would take me to get over a person if they left me in that very moment. And usually it’s a month, maybe two. But with him it was like, if he disappeared right now? Years. I wouldn’t be the same, ever. I already feel like a piece of my life is missing just thinking about it...

3,2,1...

The beast comes knocking
as sleep begins to wrap
me softly in his arms. 

He beckons, as always,
breathing a visible steam,
claws clinking on the hardwood.

“What took you so long?” I ask. 

“Why, darling, you know
I always come the moment
you stop expecting it...”

Chaos

“I am not here to tame your darkness,” he whispered. “I am here to live in it.”

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.