Tuesday, March 08, 2016

How did I get here?

I cannot pinpoint exactly when we all stopped believing in the magic.
It didn't happen all at once, that's for sure. It was like a gentle tumble, a misunderstanding at first, a joke when thought of alone at night.
No matter what it is now, surely I will get my happy ever after.
Surely it will involve Someone- someone who sees the cracks even after I've filled them up,
Someone who watches me smile in solitude, wrapped up in a book,
Someone who understands my need to feel helpless sometimes, only to end up figuring everything out later.
Surely, they will come.
We talked amongst each other, traded tips and tricks and stories and hearts,
Friends to friends, on how this feeling of despair won't last forever.
But I seem to not be having these conversations all that much lately.
We seem to not bring them up, or not give them a place at the table for too long- far less hurtful things must be discussed, thoughts that can be thrown away at the end of the meal.
We do not discuss heartbreak and mistakes with the ease and hope that was so readily available in our youth.
Maybe it is here to stay, maybe it's the one truth our mothers could not explain to us, no matter which language they spoke.
Maybe there are no words for what is written, no matter what choice you make.

I cannot pinpoint when exactly we stopped believing in the magic.

But I do know that the magic exists.

Tuesday, January 06, 2015

He always did know what time it was, wherever I was.

"wet socks mean achievement"

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Saturday, September 13, 2014

things have not been going well.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

kissin' on magazines

In my dream, they made me write my confession, my purpose. Everyone just wanted to get it over with, to have it on paper and be done with it. They gave me a piece of paper and a pen. The ink was my blood and the paper soaked it all in so every word just became a blot of bright redness. My last sentence was about mothers and daughters and sisters and wives, but the wouldn't let me finish it. They stole the paper and ran off. I was left behind by myself with the house help and petals of discarded flowers. My tears made it so hard to see where I was walking, but I remember stumbling out on to the road, and there it was again. That rain, that wretched, wretched rain...

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Monday, March 18, 2013

the heart's symphony

I watched him sleep to
Suite Bergamasque
It was then that I realized
Spring was coming
that moment became my
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