Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“Be careful of who you let back into your life; mistakes are often disguised as second chances.”

Seeded into my nights,
Your essence claims me;
Hidden in my shadow,
Your fists find purchase
On peach shaded skin.
When you feel yourself
Losing your grip,
Fingers morph into claws,
Piercing my exposed flesh
Until my moonlite profile
Is brushed in heavy strokes
Of ferric crimson.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Uncategorized

It takes some time, and then some more time, and even more time, and even more, more, more… I just have to believe it’ll get better in time.

There was a girl I loved, in a way I can’t really express in words. More than just pretty, beautiful, stunning; she was light itself, curving around galaxies to catch my eye. She had the kind of voice where you never deleted her voicemails – no matter what she had to say, it was something I wanted to live. I never felt like I had to pretend, so I would say every joke that would come to mind, and she would laugh with me and laugh at me. For the first time in my life I could smile to myself, knowing someone adored my terrible British accent and was impressed with my encyclopedic knowledge of all things Hayao Miyazaki.

Not every moment was perfect; fights happened, and we both cried, tore up our throats as we woke up every neighborhood stray, went to bed after a sunrise wishing we could take back those words, as if they were accidents. Words are deliberate, and nothing can be erased, but everything can be fixed. So maybe we weren’t always perfect, but every moment, the highs and the lows, as long as they were with her it was still magical.

Perhaps I’m placing those feelings onto high a pedestal, and maybe I’m just seeing things in rose-tinted glasses, but even knowing everything I do now, with 20/20 hindsight, I wouldn’t change the course of my life – Because if I did, I probably never would have met her, and everything else could have ended up the same regardless. So even knowing how this ends, I would still pick her all over again…I’d pick her over me Every. Single. Time.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Uncategorized

It’s embarrassing to have to turn down every potential swimming adventure because you don’t want to ruin the fun when they see all those scars, those mistakes you obviously haven’t learned a damn thing from..

I’ve buried myself in the Baltic, burned into my skin this rough salt water. My shipyards left barren, the lighthouse now a beacon for shadows and shame. No bravery lives here. My dreams were left behind, so nothing but my terror remains, feeding off the eerie winds that sound during all seasons. These waves carry nothing to my shore’s; they only leech light during those rare sunny days, retreating into a blue so deep it’s like watching the Moon eclipse the sun. That blue is a darkness to numb my senses and dull this faint heart. I weep in the face of that brine, but I haven’t moved. I’ve made my home here, in this sea, far away from anything I could mistake as a reason to forgive.