the beautiful secret we all must come to remember

Deep solid breaths 
rush out of me like its the last moment i'll lay my golden rimmed
eyes on what I've always wanted to see, but never truly seen 
beautiful things
things of magic
things of happiness
moonbeams dance around my room as lace my fingers with my own
nothing can get better than this
this moment, this moment is so real, so real that I know it is a dream
or a memory... 
a memory of something I once felt. 
I know I've felt this before
deep, deep happiness. 
farther down then I've ever known my heart could feel
its a feeling of warmth warmer than i've ever felt 
my ears can't take enough of the sweet sound of windless discontentment 
the sound of someone truly breathing for the first time, finally understanding
my fingers can't type fast enough
my heart can't beat hard enough to break through skin


my eyes flutter open and shut once more and I realize that i'm still here
and I know exactly what I want
nothing else seems to matter except the next breath that I will take in sync with the wind
my shapeless curtains rustle with each turn of the night
mr moon, you know exactly what I feel, don't you?
How odd that you are in one piece the night that I feel completely whole
we are as one
me and the moon


and as I smile, my fingers pressed against the glass, warm drops of rain slide down my cheek
I know He made it all for me
the glass slowly seals to a close
the last rush of wind rushes through my lungs
barricading the truth and secret that I now understand inside of me


now, a part of me
forever

summer air

Tonight I lay in quiet solitude. Everything I could ever want is at the tip of my finger tips. 
The clock inside counts down to things that are unknown, yet sought and yearned for. 
Summer is here, and the beauty of the air engulfs my soul. 
Hurt and pain are forgotten for a while, all things forgiven, at least for me. 
I love you, and i miss you. The things that I haven't been able to say or admit for quite a time. Feelings spilling from my tightly wound soul. Something about the summer air loosens the binding. I am able to breathe easier, sigh easier, feel easier... 
One more minute of looking, searching for you. What is it about this place that makes me yearn for you, that makes me think that you are resting underneath the far off tree? I want to climb every hill and watch the majestic sun rise and fall with each miracle day that is given to me. The sun finally hides behind the friendly giants and the stars stretch across the night sky. 


I linger by the window, listening to the restless trees swaying back and forth. The distant dogs/wolves/coyotes? howl, reminding me of the passion that each creature holds for life. Why is it so easy for us to forget? They never do. They aren't afraid to be who they are. 


The summer air comes rushing through the window, playing with the hair laced across my face. 
Something deep down tells me that it was a sign. 
Thanks, I love you too.

untitled song

I wrote these lyrics today... the song is still untitled though. 
enjoy. 

"Life is so easy when we’re little. So protected by those who have seen the dragons and monsters. They make us feel right, they make us feel loved. Pure faces and cheesy smiles ruled the camera’s. What was there to fear except the night light going out? We had our dark nights, but always knew the sun would come up if we kept our head under the covers long enough.

Everything is about laughter and fireflies. Never thinking about the things that could harm us, or the things that we could become. We played outside at night, we rode the horses bare back, we jumped out of windows and made believe that there were such a thing as bad guys. But who were we then? The people we were supposed to be, or the people we didn’t know how to be yet?

Days pass like the seconds tick on the clock. Fast and unnoticed, but pretty soon we realize how far we have floated out on sea. Away from the safe shore, and surrounded by sharks. During those moments of collision, we become the person that we will be for the rest of our lives. We collide with our past, we collide with our future. What little steps were the important ones? What steps did we skip in realizing that we would lose you someday?

You were the brave one, the happy one, the reason we believed in flying.

Everything is about laughter and fireflies. Never thinking about the things that could harm us, or the things that we could become. We played outside at night, we rode the horses bare back, we jumped out of windows and made believe that there were such a thing as bad guys. But who were we then? The people we were supposed to be, or the people we didn’t know how to be yet?

Our eyes fill up with unfamiliar things, wetness of some sort dripping down our faces. Is this what they showed on movies, sadness? I thought everything was fine. I thought that good conquered evil always, or so I had been taught. The white powder monster got you. He filled you with false hopes and false happiness then took all he could get from you…

Including your life.

I miss your laughter, I miss our bottles full of fireflies and fairy dust. The horses stopped running, tired and old. The bad guys came and took important things from us. We got scared. We lost our innocence. Who were we back then? The people we were supposed to be, or the people we didn’t know how to be yet?

 I think I knew who you were all along, you were our superman."

now i'm relating to a piece of cardboard?

We're all just a piece to the puzzle, although none of us know what we're making. I have no idea what color/s I am, or what shape I may take, but I know that I am a part of something big. How big?... I don't know that either. 

So far, I've been put in the wrong places. Sometimes I think that whoever is moving me around, trying to cram me into a space, doesn't know what they are doing. They don't see that I'm not fitting with the other pieces, they don't see that my colors don't match up. They don't see that by putting me there, the picture won't make sense. 

I feel like I've been needing to be in those spaces though. For some reason, it made sense to put me with those other pieces. Sometimes I don't understand the reason, but I am beginning to. 

But what do I know, for I am just a puzzle piece, and I didn't make myself. I was carved, painted, and designed for a sole purpose. A purpose to fill a specific spot. 

Hey/you-I was put with you to realize that I am capable of feeling so much love for someone that it is almost impossible to breathe when I'm around you. I was put next to you to realize that although 3 of our corners matched up, the 4th edge didn't quite make it...but you know what? That's ok. You taught me to be myself. You taught me to be confident. You taught me that laughter is isn't just medicine, it's my h20. You were there to witness my first scar on my heart, and with our immature love we created (hopefully) the last scar I'll receive on my heart.

Superman-You weren't meant to stay here for as long as I will I guess, but that is ok too. But your edges had a permanent affect on mine, in fact, I think you truly changed the way they fit with others. In a good way though, I think? I am more sympathetic. I appreciate time with my family more. I try to have better relationships with everyone. Fighting for nothing is stupid. Fighting for a "reason" is stupid too. I just love you. My heart wants to tell you that everyday. 

Being lonely is only a relative term. Because if we think about it, sometimes those lil puzzle pieces sit there for a long long time before the master of it all decides to put them where they are meant to be. We won't feel "alone" forever. And even when we are feeling alone, there are hundreds of other pieces feeling the same exact way. Waiting for that feeling of connection. Waiting to feel complete. Waiting for those other special puzzle pieces to make them feel whole. Waiting to see why they have the colors that they do painted onto their body, and why they were given the edges that they were given. 

What picture will I help create? 

All I know is that it is going to be a beautiful one, and for a beautiful master piece, I am willing to wait for as long as it is needed. 

I think you lost your half of the necklace...?

It happened again. 
I don't know why I always let myself fall into the same trap, 
it must be something in the air that draws me to it. 
I try to keep myself from caring, I've been burned too many times in the past. 
But it happened, again, and I'm sick of it. 
I'm sick of feeling an empty space in my heart because I made room for another soul. 
My heart was just fine the way it was, it didn't want to stretch, or make room for another, and now its stuck feeling worn out and abandoned. 
I want to be a priority in someone's life. Not just a side-line friend that is only there when it's the perfect timing for you. 
Do you ever stop and think that maybe I really cared about you? Maybe I really liked being around you. Maybe I liked being your friend. Maybe I liked being a part of your life. 
But it doesn't matter because there are always bigger fish to fry. 
Other gossip to hear. 
Other dramatic scenes to fill your  soap box. 
I know I joke around a lot, but this time I'm serious. 
I wear my half of the necklace around my neck every single day. 
Pretty sure I have more of those that I can count, but I was really hoping that your necklace would actually mean the words that were engraved on it. 


B.F.F. 


(buddies fall fast) 

igniting

Does the fire inside of me still burn? 
I feel like I'm searching for something that is merely a hope. 
A hope for open arms, ready for my cold shivering body to fall into. 
Arms that will securely enfold me for the rest of my life. 
Arms that will carry me when the breath inside of me is squeezing my lungs, reaching for another couple inches... 
As tight as my lungs stretch, I won't give up on this thing that I am searching for, even if it kills me. 
For if I'm not looking for this, what purpose is there in my life? 
To hope for love isn't just an act of sheer folly,  it is the ultimate key to survival, the igniting of my fire.
Without that fire, my blood runs cold and the fight for life seems dull and gray.
What beauty is there to behold in a winters day without that streak of sun running through the clouds? 
With that one streak of sunlight, the world awakens. 
The purple daisy stretches forth his weak, frail petals, putting trust in the only thing he knows.  
But how reliable is good old Mr. Sun? 
Can we really believe that he will see us through our toughest days? 
Can we put our trust in something without feeling, soul, or a brain? 
The same with hope, it doesn't feel. It doesn't know pain. It doesn't care if we live or die. 
But yet we live for hope. Some even die for hope. 
The same with you. 
I can't be certain that you are the person that I believe you are. 
I can't be sure that you will be those loving secure arms, never to let me fall. 
But I believe in you. 
You are my sun, shining through the stormy clouds. 
You are my one ray of light, or at least, I'd like for you to be. 


You ignite the fire within me, even if you are just a figment of my imagination. 
Even if you are, just as hope, something that can't be seen. 
But even though hope isn't seen, it is felt. And feeling this for you is enough to last me through a thousand years. 
The key to my life is you. 
Please, don't let me burn out. 

the silent killer

There is this inner beast that is dying to get out. He will do anything to get on the outside, he just has to see the outside. It has become his obsession and he will not give up until he succeeds. We all try to fight him, we all try to face the fear that we have been avoiding. It takes some strength to admit that we've been avoiding it, we've been avoiding it for quite some time now. That time is not now though. If we don't face it, it will eat us alive. It will consume our soul and make us his prisoner, forever. Sometimes I like the idea of this monster inside. Maybe it's the inner rebellion that I have, or maybe its the temptation to give up, but sometimes I like it. Sometimes I imagine what my life would be like to become the beast. He's not all that bad, in fact, don't tell anyone this, but sometimes I pretend I am the beast. It's much easier to pretend I'm the beast because he's so sneaky and sly at how he lives. He lives in the dark corners. He shuffles during the misty night. He blends into the city like a chameleon, and even though we all see him, we don't recognize him. Or maybe we do, we just don't want to admit it, for fear that the beast will eat us alive. But we do know him, we know what he does and we secretly admire him for his cleverness. He is our addiction. As much as we say that we hate him, we crave his presence. The beast inside is beautiful. He has iridescent purple scales gently laid on every crevice of his body. His mane of gold lies down his back the way that waves flow gently towards shore. You want to reach out and touch it, but it quickly disappears just like the sun beams that rest on our faces. He walks with a mysterious edge. One that makes you want to become just like him, but you know you never will, not completely that is. His eyes are a crystal blue with a golden yellow line around the pupil. For how bright and beautiful they are you'd think they could light the way through the darkest of nights... they can't though, they soak in the darkness. He imitates everything good, and oh how beautiful his mask of goodness looks on him! You can't help but want a picture in your mind inside of you all of the days of your life, just to say that you know him. Just to say that you have a piece of him with you. Just to say that you are part human, part beast. 

But I know he isn't good for me. He is the master of deception. I've had his claws wrapped around my neck before, and it left some deep marks. Marks that I will forever have on my neck to symbolize the weakness that I once had. I am not that same person. I have worked hard to develop my strength to fight the beast. I learned how to see through his deceptions, I know when he is lying to me. It's hard for me to realize that he is the silent killer. But he is. The longer I let him reside inside of me, the closer and closer I get to the death of my personality, the death of my uniqueness. The closer I get to becoming exactly him.  

I want to be stronger than the beast. I don't want him to win. I will fight every second of my life to stay the way that I am, beautiful, healthy, happy and strong. I don't want to give into the beast. He lies to me, telling me that the way to beauty is to develop beast like traits. Why is it so easy to listen to his glittering tongue? Shouldn't I have learned long ago that his purpose in life is to trip me up? To set me up for failure? How could be being beautiful be anything different than being yourself? We were made perfectly, just the way that we were meant to be. The beast wasn't born that way. He is a deformed being, a changed being, a being without a mind of it's own. He followed the ways of his role models and became the exact image of them. He isn't unique. No matter how beautiful I think he is, he isn't unique. He isn't beautiful. He is dying inside. His personality is dying along with him. So I choose to fight. No matter how hard it is, I will win this battle. 

Thinspiration, you aren't beauty. You are a self destructive beast, and I choose to win. Now make way for me and my beautiful, unique self to make great things out of my life. 

Hello old self, I've missed you...