No matter how far I go, from shoreline to shoreline, begging refuge from coastguards and strange light towers, I never drift far enough to find an Ocean without at least an ounce of you.

You'll find me in Belgium,  On the coast of the North Sea.  I'll be swaying on the current,  The salty spray of the tide  Running me towards the Strait of Dover.  It bears my essence as it crashes,  A crushing cerulean weight To turn rock into sand,  And sailors dreams into restless sleep.

“What is love when we use it so much, say it so often, that it becomes nothing more than static waves, background noise to the nights spent yelling and screaming and drowning in this thing called love…”

Caught up, staring at the ones holding the upper hand, we find ourselves sliding off into another land, the never-mind jesters and forget-me-not winks of a foreign thought, a slight muse, a stupid, undeniably stupid dream. ~I wanted to hear something; not just words, but meaning and emotion. I wanted to be chased, but not … Continue reading “What is love when we use it so much, say it so often, that it becomes nothing more than static waves, background noise to the nights spent yelling and screaming and drowning in this thing called love…”

On good days I tell myself it’s a way to wash it all away and get a clean slate, and on bad days I try not to speak at all, to avoid drowning in my rush for some peace.

I’m beginning to see how it is That the sea, so full to its brim, So overflowing with creatures, The very blossom of life, can feel Blank, like the pallet of stars Our God saw fit to place Where we can never hope to reach.   Inside we hold a universe untold, The light, hidden … Continue reading On good days I tell myself it’s a way to wash it all away and get a clean slate, and on bad days I try not to speak at all, to avoid drowning in my rush for some peace.

I’ve grown accustomed to my own lack of patience, pushing aside the reality of my short temper by hiding behind a mountain of excuses, like my insufficient sleep schedule or my diet of razor blades and a nightly bottle of pills. But let’s break that down to it’s pieces, shall we?

My sleep isn’t so much a lack thereof, but a world of nightmares that makes nothing feel like real rest. Every wall is a mirror, and my whole body is covered in bright red scars, and everyone I’ve ever known is watching me and walking by and offering help, offering hands and tissue paper and … Continue reading I’ve grown accustomed to my own lack of patience, pushing aside the reality of my short temper by hiding behind a mountain of excuses, like my insufficient sleep schedule or my diet of razor blades and a nightly bottle of pills. But let’s break that down to it’s pieces, shall we?

I’ve spent the past 4 years surrounded by nothing but noise, yet it’s still her silence that speaks to me the loudest.

She kisses with that glowing touch; A muted, thin breach of confidence. A kiss laced with smiles, Wrinkled noses, a million words Expressed in two lips Meeting over an exchange of hearts. The sort of kiss that fills you up, Rushes blood throughout your body; A kiss to replace the rhythm in your chest That … Continue reading I’ve spent the past 4 years surrounded by nothing but noise, yet it’s still her silence that speaks to me the loudest.