Dream Life

  There comes a time in life where you come across a person that is a deep breath personified. Someone who knows what you're thinking simply by the look in your eyes. Someone you can laugh until you cry with. Someone you can pour your heart out to and you know they'll hold it gently and without judgement. Someone who knows how to melt away your stress. Someone wo challenges  you yet handles you with care. Someone who reminds you of your strength at your weakest points and you believe them. Someone who celebrates you and sings your praises, even when you're not around.                                  Someone who softens your heart when things get tough, but would go to war for you in a heartbeat. Someone who you can share your stories with, deepening your connection with every page. Someone who would never allow you to settle because their faith in you is unwavering. Someone you feel you've kn...

                                               i always thought it would be difficult to find someone who will love me when i'm always scattered in a thousand pieces it's like trying to complete a puzzle when you don't even know if you have  all the right pieces but then you showed me that every piece doesn't have to be place to create something beautiful that love can exist in the most imperfect lost and broken people and i promise you that love will be just as beautiful. if you're in a thousand pieces or just one.

                                    Sometimes i feel like i am simply being 'passed into different hands. We make homes out of people, only to pack up our things and move and move and move. there is a lot of myself still residing in cardboard boxes. i am too scared to find a place for it. i hover at your doorstep. you look like exactly where i need to be right now. but i've got a pocket full of old keys to remind me to never overstay my welcome. invite me in anyway. there is something about you that makes me want more than anything to give all this another try.

                                                                                   the economics of letting go lately i've been thinking about physical things and emotional things: everything i have to carry. i feel burdened with memories. and the way i will hold on to an item or thought just in case it will be of significance later. i rehearse lines from a conversation had. memories. i never let anything gather dust. because we never know if things are going to be of more or less value in the future. but lately i have stopped agonising over the economics of letting go. i am telling myself it is okay to forgot. i am making room for better things. like light. like nothing at all.

                                                 I once heard someone say, If you don't change you do not grow, But I waved the thought away, For who were they to think they know, I'd always stayed the same, A heart that thrived within the cold, And I had no desire to change, At least that's what I had been told, But deep within my mind, A thought grew slowly, bit by bit, Until I felt trapped in my skin, For it no longer seemed to fit, There's a whole world sitting out there, Changing every single day, That proves it's nothing to be scared of, If you do it the right way, For a day afraid to turn to night, Will miss the silver moon, And a flower that refuses change, Will never get to bloom, I had thought I was a thorn bush, Only good for snagging clothes, But if you do not dare to change, You'll never find out you're a rose.

  If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream- and not make dreams your master; If you can think- and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and -toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn ...

                                             I wish I wrote the way I thought; Obsessively, Incessantly, With maddening hunger. I'd write to the point of suffocation. I'd write myself into nervous breakdowns. Manuscripts spiraling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing. And I'd write about you a lot more than I should.

                                            you're looking in the mirror and you don't like what you see. You're nothing like the person that by now you thought you'd be. and the voices in your head start telling you those lies so now there's a tremor in your lip and tears inside your eyes. they tell you about the others who are so much better than you and you've heard it enough times that you start to believe it's true:   that everything you've worked to be and everything you've made when put against another life just all begin to fade. but oh, you need to wipe your eyes to see things as they are. a life of your own making should never be put on par. and their grass just may be greener but that is not worth knowing for the greenest grass cannot compare to the garden that you're growing.