via Daily Prompt: Someday
Someday you will leave
Someday soon you will have to leave
Someday sooner than I’d like to think about you’re going to be leaving
Someday you and I will no longer be you and I
but rather you, and I
Maybe someday we will meet again
Either way, someday you will leave, someday sooner than I’d like to think about.
a fan spins slowly
struck by a sweet breeze
illuminated by the moonlight, shining
through an array of tall trees
a puppy breathes softly
struck by a sweet dream
resting under the moonlight, shining
through all of the leaves
a girl sits quietly, struck by an awe
for the world spinning under her
forever rotating, on and on
when inspiration strikes, let it consume you.
and as she sat, she wondered. she wondered about the birds and the bees, she questioned everything from the deepest depths of the ocean to the tallest of the trees. the purpose of our existence, unknown yet we stay unquestioning. few take the time to turn past the first few pages of the book, to dive in and let the questions consume their whole being. these few are seen as crazy although she knows that this insanity that overcomes them and fills them up to the point of overflow, then shortly after, flood, should not be taken with a negative connotation but rather the most positive. for these few individuals are brave enough to remove the comfort that most allow shield their eyes from the truth and are truly able to see that we are so small and the world is so big. the galaxy is so big, the universe is so big and the unknown is infinite, at least, for now. the unknown will stay infinite if insanity continues to be frowned upon and the chase to quench the thirst of the unknown is forever unsatisfiable.
7:07 November 22nd, 2016
the amount of sunrises I’ve seen in my lifetime has been minimal
but this morning i was lucky enough to be awoken by what i can only imagine is one of the most beautiful sunrises
it’s soft, tender glow cascading over the vast creation
and this morning i was lucky enough to find myself laying next to the most beautiful boy
awoken by his gentle touch, a reminder of his gentle soul
the soft, tender glow he constantly emanates casts a sweet spell over my body and mind.
a warm feeling seeped through me as i made my way to my waiting car,
a new feeling
content; a state of peaceful happiness
and unlike the sunset, which was here one moment and gone the next
i wish for him to stay
forever awing me with his radiant body and mind.
Rather than letting the fear of heartbreak control you, let the hope of love take over. Heartbreak is inevitable.
Though, pre heartbreak is love. A love that can resolve wars, a love that can cure any disease, love that can make you feel as if you have a purpose, a reason.
And post heartbreak comes a new strength, a strength strong enough to pick up the pieces. A strength kind enough to brush you off, remind you “you’re stronger than this, you’re better than this”. A strength hopeful enough to teach you to love yourself again, because it might have been lost in translation. A strength learned enough to remind you that being alone is okay & in order to love another you must first love yourself.
Love is always, always worth it. Allow love to course through your veins and inhabit your thoughts. Base your actions off of loving ethics & values. Your soul flourishes when fed love and watered hope. Life is too short to love softly & to be wary.
Heartbreak is inevitable and with heart break comes experience, comes intellect. The ability to love the right person, the right way. Some say that love makes life worth living. Don’t allow the fear of heartbreak control you, simply love & learn to love again.
A girl by the name of Mary Jane
Sat in her room one rainy day
Next to the corner where she kneeled and prayed
Where she gave her thanks once everyday
And prayed to a God that she wished she knew
So she could ask if it all was true
The creation, the beauty, the magnificent views
But alas, her doubts will remain askew.
via Daily Prompt: Tree
Up up and away she would climb
Away into the branches of the wise old sycamore sedentary at the end of her street
A street that would go by the name of Lovers Lane
This name was sensible, as a result of the surplus of lovers who would rendezvous under the wise old tree
Though it never made sense to her
Why they would linger at the bottom, sharing kisses and conversing in hushed tones
She had never rendezvoused with any boys underneath the watchful branches of the old sycamore tree at the end of Lovers Lane
Instead she climbed
Climbed away her worries and endeavors
Climbed away her sorrows and her fears
There at the top she threw her hands high in the sky and let the wind carry her hair away from her face
Let the wind carry away her worries, endeavors, her sorrows and fears
And once she was done
On the last climbable branch
And while she sat, she thought
About all the foolish boys and girls who were missing out on one of life’s simplest pleasures
A pleasure that was learned only at the top of the wise old sycamore sedentary at the end of Lovers Lane
The ability to be alone
But to not feel alone.
Life can be hard sometimes. Life can also be easy. But the difficulty of living fluctuates as we live on and on until the day we die. No one knows for sure what happens then. No one knows the difficulty of death. People like to think that they know, and maybe they even do. I sure as hell don’t know and don’t expect to until the time comes. Maybe it’s nothing, but it could be everything.
you’re addicting but I’ve been sober far too long to fall back into old ways
they say it takes 17 or so days to break a habit and I guess you could say it’s been broken but that fails to explain why I haven’t stopped missing your laugh?
my lonely heart still aches for you and your voice, which is a familiar sound
you feel like home and I can’t shake the feeling that’s where I’m supposed to be
I figure that’s another habit thing
there are so many things I’d like to say to you until I remember why it’d be a waste of breathe
I guess some things are better left unsaid
and some loves, like ours, are better left dead