Melodrama: Not My Jam

Bone breaking
Waves crashing over rock
Wind snapping pine
Chance crash of asteroids

Suffering so immense
So theatrical, unnecessary?
Physical pain in my chest
Heart burning

When the pain is too much
Where do you go?
Can you bare to trust
Another to help you?

Unbolt arms
Unlock ribs
Chip away wall
Can you trust it will all be ok?

When you have been hurt
And are scared
Can you close you eyes
And let the waves crash in

Can you let someone else
See your tears, your fears?
Melodrama so ridiculous
Feels weird to write in words

So much pain in the world
And I sit here with fear
Don't know why I am so scared (terrified)
To care

Care
Care
Care
Care

Netflix: What Hast Thou Done?

Oh trawl snap that waits for me at home
Anticipating my eventual return
Frothy and eternal like sea foam
Building terrible desire in mind's stern

Flop on sleeping cushion and trawl snap
Humorous orbs open and drying 'til dawn
Sleeping moments taken and entrapped
<Thou hast taken m'time, tis gone!">

Foreign and adventure, satire and romance
Experience floating on virtual life
Debris twisting in unproductive ocean dance
Grab thy seine and cut with productive knife

<I will never return to ere,
This I fain would guarantee!
Hark! Trawl snap, I hast been freed!
Hie thee hence or I will bitch slap thee!>

Living Like a Thirty Year Old Business Woman

<I'm fat right now> she thought, purposefully examining her dirty computer keys in avoidance of glancing at her paunchy proportions. Chipped red nail polish punched the white keys. Little balls of dust laid stationary in the cracks from key 1 to M. Her eyes drooped and she let her head drop to the desk. To be perfectly honest, she slept more at the library now a days than at her apartment. It was less because she was studying and more because she hadn't cleaned her begrimed quarters in weeks. The anticipation and intimidation of impelling the little white door against the force of the garb wall scared her away from her bed. She truly had no time to clean that room. A sleepy darkness fell on her.

Christina Addicks slouched in the corner analyzing results from the biology project. Spence Hoffman was on a community computer checking facebook. Daniel Baker was writing his communications class transcription and Hayden Lane crouched on the floor plugging in his laptop. Messy curls, straightened brown hair, cropped locks all bounced past the printers. Natalie Madden knitted during the lunch break with light pink yarn weaving through her fingers. A tour passed across the floor with smiling or bored high school seniors along with their proud and excited parents. Matt Dodds returned "History of Rome".

As she slept, she was surrounded by people like her. While her eyes flickered under their lids, young individuals hearts were beating a similar rhythm to her's, as they struggled and laughed and lived along side her. Yet she dreamed of her solus. <It's almost Valentine's Day>

The Rusted Horse

It went up in flame. Blazing tendrils licked out of the metal trashcan and coughed embers into the air. Blue waves washed across the coals with patience, waiting for their next firey delight. He threw another piece into the inferno and watched it fall into the peaceful red. The middle of the picture sank behind the edges, the photo curling into a vulnerable ball before it burst into hot light. Tiring of his meditation, the man turned the box over, emptying the rest of the little photos into the make-shift furnace. He couldn't help but watch as her face dissolved twenty three different times. Long dark fingers dropped the box into the fire and footsteps sounded through the alley as the tall man walked away, leaving his ceremonial farewell to get back to work at the Rusted Horse.

How do you measure a year?

Thoughts on Travel

http://thoughtcatalog.com/matthew-kepnes/2013/11/everyone-says-i-am-running-away/

Faerie

Dear World,

      A tough thing happened to me this year. I don't want to talk about what it was, I just want to say that it happened. If I don't say that it happened, I have this feeling of wandering around in dark woods. I flash my flashlight over a branch and think it is a hand trying to grab me, or I hear the wind sweep through the trees and I think someone is whispering to me. My memories trick me, and if I don't conjure them out of their dark cauldron, I feel they might give me that final, poisonous apple, that they might take over without me even knowing what happened. 
      This all sounds so dreary, but I can assure you that it's not. When I trip and stumble in this wilderness, my friends are there to take my hand, to lead me. My friends run to my side when I jump in fear of a shadow. These beings, these beautiful beings that are unassuming and love without limitation, they are the reason that there is good in the world. When something bad happens to someone, it soothes me to know that there are pure and beautiful people out there like my friends to help the situation. If one bad thing ever happened to me, there would be five of them working against the evil. So when I can't breath from fear, these faerie are there, waiting to sprinkle their magic and whisk me away to a magical wonderland. And when they leave me back on this seemingly-dark world, they make sure to leave me with the knowledge that they will always be there. I can only hope I will be one of these beautiful people one day, and can only hope that more of them exist all over the world. 

Thank you guys for always being there, to bring over ice cream and play board games and just love without even needing to know why I need it. I have so much admiration for your giant hearts. I love you. 

Lucky

                                                    up!
Jumping on a trampoline    
                                                         down!
It seems repetitive, but there's something about jumping that is intriguing. Each jump is unique. Maybe it's in the landing,
                                                                           changing the bend of your knees
                                                                                    differently each time.
                                                                     
                                                                                                    weightless in the blue sky.
Or maybe it's in the moment you are completely of the ground,                                            Maybe it's in the altitude, maybe it's in the actual action of jumping. Or maybe it's in the feeling. The feeling of pointing your toes into the fabric, pushing against the weight of yourself, lifting your arms, and then just falling to the will of gravity. It is the sui generis of the trampoline's nature.
           
Inthew i n d n o th i  n g i  s  d   e    t     e       r       m          i           n             e                 d