Thursday, March 23, 2017

So Many Thoughts...

I think I think too many thoughts
My mind is full of endless things.
Just carrying this mind of mine
Becomes a weight too tiring...

The immensity, the great expanse
of my internal mental caves,
Will proliferate plenty adventures
in life, from cradle unto grave...

I was born busy in this world
The aspiring attic of my head.
Perchance you should stumble inside
Perhaps you could see what I've said...

But there is only me to know these thoughts,
And only a few years to live.
There are so many diamonds in my dirt
So many thoughts to sift...

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Redefining Your Space

Organization is one of those things that I absolutely love... yet hate...

I am an absolute perfectionist, and when it comes to organizing, there are just so many great ways to organize, I can never find one I like the best!

When it comes to blogging, there are some things I have learned that I feel will be useful in this next phase...

1) People don't really care all that much about your life. They want to know how it relates to them. They want to know that you, as a writer, can identify with them! You are there to somehow improve their lives.

2) Don't go on, and on, and on. No one cares that much, nor do people have an exorbitant amount of time to read your gibberish.

3) Keep things professional... most of the time. It's nice to hear some personal things, especially when you are a growing person and you just what to know how the heck people make it out there in that big, bad world...

4) Be honest. Yes, be very honest. People want to know what life is REALLY like, not what its "post" to look like.

This is a place that I have carved my name into, and like it or not, its mine. Its real, its raw, its authentic, and should some young people stumble across it, I hope they read it as I read other's writings when I was young and find some encouragement. I also love the fact that my history is being documented, the good, the bad and the ugly. I also keep a journal, but this blog forces me to write in such a way that I am thinking about others reading it, which forces me to write with a better voice, and makes me try to capture life in a deeper way.

This is me, this is all of me, and I'm proud of what I'm slowly becoming. I am so excited for this new year, and I hope whoever finds this little corner of the web is happy too.

Love to all,

Monday, March 6, 2017

For the Kids Who Hurt Tonight...

For all my babies out there who are really, truly hurting, I'm so sorry that I get so caught up in my own little world. I feel you. God feels you. We'll cry with you. He won't let us go...

Sunday, March 5, 2017

I'll Rise Again Tomorrow

Brave little phoenix,
Don't you remember being burned to nothing but ashes?
"Of course I do," the phoenix replies,

"And I shall die another day, but I'll rise again tomorrow."

Deeper Still

Emotions run deep,
But your word runs deeper still.

Some things I cannot keep
But your truth will always fill.

Silence may scream
But your voice surrounds me.

Because however deep my troubled waters run,
Your peace runs deeper still.


adjective; a persistent re-emergence of thought-to-be-dead emotions, marked by a newfound life now attached to a more deeply dead emotion. The eerie afterlife of a love which almost was, or never could be. A bittersweet emotion of melancholy appreciation of love in any form. The sadness of being in love with ghosts which are not able to stay in solid form. The distinct feeling of reaching out for that which truly does not exist, yet insists on existing as a memory, only to be met time after time by a brief, sweeping sorrow. The act of trying to embrace an apparition. Finding deluded delight in lingering over the graves of ghosts which one has attempted to bury. The sound of wind chimes being blown by a breathy, almost-cold breeze, alongside the salt smell of ocean spray. Hearing the child which you never bore cry out for you to hold them, and feeling the hand of your never-was beloved brush against yours in the twilight.

There is Less Blood in my Love Now...

There is less blood in my love now.
I can sense it.
It's tired, and old, and terribly cold.
It's still there, but its thin and weak.
It isn't that it doesn't try,
but like the whispery skin of one who has aged
It simply can no longer endure...
The last tear has fallen,
The last drop of blood has spilled...
I have nothing left...
All is ghostly...
It is closing it's eyes, perhaps for the last time...
It's sad, but almost sweet to see it go...
It was so fragile, so weary...
There, there, let it all fall away...
Be at peace,
With blood no more...

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