My Equinox

Don't remember when
days were divided into
those with worry and those
without.
 
With a choice,
or no way out.

On exceptionally clear nights, when the soft darkness of the sky outstreches beyond its usual grasp and reaches us, I like to point a finger toward a supposed heaven to count stars with a bright wish in my heart for you to join me. And you were right, I do want to recreate all the fantastical scenes we watch in movies, not because I believe in them, but because I want to live every minute of every day, awake or asleep, in a new world.
 
So I like to dance in my dreams, I like listening to songs with dirty lyrics, and I'd kill to be a little like Lady Gaga or Katy Perry. I like painting things in the colours of the rainbow, I like zoos, I like telling strangers about the intimate details of my life. I take pride in wearing my heart on my sleeve. I like banana flavoured ice cream, and talking about things without stopping, I like jumping from the sofa to the armchair to the footstool to the table and back to the sofa again. I absolutely adore teeny tiny fuzzy-peachy bundles of joy and warmth, and the scent of a certain particularly gorgeous boy.
 
My purpose? To try everything.
 
I might be like everyone else, or unlike anyone else. There's little I understand, but I'm certain a lot needs to be done - priorities to be straightened, growing up and serious thinking to be done. For now, though, I'm lazy and liking it.
 
But what am I, if not experiences? If I can't create every feeling there's ever existed in my head? If I can't fall in love with you over and over and over again every time? If I can't make you happy in ways that lovers before us couldn't even have imagined? Even in their unaware dreams. They couldn't have.
 
You know so well, I'm extraordianrily crazy for you.
 

My Heart Is Divided Into 2 Like a Pair of Lockets Around The Necks of Me and You

When I forget how to speak, how to think, how to breathe, I still manage to remember you. You are irreplaceable. An unparalleled lost treasure, you could turn anyone into gold. A treasure safe from time. To infinity and beyond.

Don't answer each helpless question correctly. You might not leave anything behind. But put your pride away, inside my palm, because I'll only break it to build it up stronger than before.
Turn
me
into
your
work
of
art.

Dizzy Dancing

Happy New Year, Little Monsters.

Crazy Beautiful

It's not just a coincidence. It's an intricate pattern of alphabets and interlocked fingers and secrets that we've discovered. And I love repeating it to myself. Not to you because I still get nervous and shy, you know. 

Sorry, I Apologize For My Lack of Propreity

I'm not competitive really. Only jealous. Rawr.

Everything

 Somehow whenever I'm looking I always find you here. Sometimes you wait for me under the sun, other times you make me wait in the dark. You don't leave until I ask you to. You ask me to stay. And I do. We have this place all to ourselves.
 
In a bedsheet summer dress with big yellow roses spilling words like sparks from fireworks. Showing you the colours underneath. Showing you the marks I was born with, the ones shaped like ladybirds that appeared later. Then counting the ones on you. Fingers sweeter than the strawberry cupcake frosting covering them. Eyes bright. Shiny. Hair long and loose and wild waves of water. Look for the trap door and J U M P ! Mr. Rabbit's clock is ticking already and Alice is in wonderland. But wasn't it all only a dream?
 
What runs through my veins now? But I wrote your name with mine in the sky. I wrote it in my best handwriting. Then a chill ran down my spine and it hurt me rather well.
 
Slowly erasing here and there, replace with against, beside and within. We do so much in surprisingly little space. Young for as long as possible, with you with me here for as long as I last. As long as you do. As long as I will. To begin again.
 
 
 

Rawr Does Not Mean I Love You In Dinosaur. Bitches.

I'm a competitive byaatch. Hear me rawr.

Sometimes I wonder if I won't fit in just because I don't add to the stories of suffering that surround you. The stories that all your friends and the special ones tell you. The ones about the bleeding, the madness of loss and heartbreak, betrayal, abandonment and unintentional harm done over the years. All either forgiven or forgotten. So you listen and then the sympathy in your heart either makes you admire their bravery or reminds you of times when you felt cracked too. I can't lie to you, I'm not good at writing up stories.


So when you've seen or heard a lot, what's still special to you? I want to know.


Looking through her red box of memories,
Faded I'm sure,
But love seems to stick in her veins, you know?

Against the walls, on the windowsills, upon the book shelves and even on the floor, there are rows and rows of candles. We will light them all and bring the sun inside. And it might take a little while. Might take a few tears, a few tantrums, except we stopped fearing those long ago.

We will illuminate ourselves. We will illuminate each other. We will sit and watch the spectacle until all that's left is wax stubs. We might lie on our backs, maybe even face each other, whatever is more comfortable. We will wait for the light to die, then in beautiful united exhaustion You and I will fall asleep. Drifting together elsewhere. And you won't have to worry about waking up every few hours. That's when you'll know. For sure. If you don't already.

Yourself

Where did you come from? When you just appeared quietly, and they mistook you for something else? That's when you were a fleck of silver snow. Falling without a clue, unaware of where you might end up.
And white you were and white you will stay.
Directionless and quite easily distracted, you fell from a familiar place. That's when you landed, soft and cold, somewhere on his skin.
You let yourself drip. Melting around his heat, you lost yourself somewhere in the need to hold on.

Then time passed by, as time always does.

Now you know that sometimes snowflakes turn into shooting stars, and once in a while a star may transform into a supernova. And love, it will lead you that way. Lead you into his arms, lead you into the beginning of the rest of your life.

The heavens, they smile upon you.

A Thousand Unforgiven Sins

I felt like my head was hollow with a heavy metal sphere rolling around inside it. Hitting really hard against the walls every now and then.
The blood circulating in my body was at a significantly higher temperature until I realized something. That's when it turned cold. It slowly began to sink in that soon I won't be able to remember exactly what you smell like. I still manage to surprise myself when randomly I catch a whiff of you, out of nowhere, out of thin air. Unexpectedly, unplanned. That's when I feel so much closer and even though my heart usually beats at twice its usual speed at these moments, I still feel exceptionally calm. How will I feel exceptionally calm now?

I could go on.
Something inside my gut is telling me to stop. Writing.