All we are is stars & everything in between
the whole universe in an atom
& here we are walking around made of many.
Can you stand on the ledge of everything & feel lucky?
Infinite possibilities lie before you.
And here you are! Here! Now!
Oh how the stars conspire
oh how they shine!
On my worst days, I am still composed of stardust.
The universe dances around endlessly.
She twirls and sashays, glimmering and gleaning.
I am somehow the middle, the end, and the beginning.
She is me and I am her
and yet, somehow, there is still you.
It all folds and flows and falls into place.
“Find beauty in the simple things”
but darling, we’re all so complex
why reduce our elegance to simplicity?
On the days when the universe feels overwhelming
like she could swallow you whole
just remember, that you are the beach and the wave.
inescapable waves
Everyone knows that at the depths of despair, grief is all consuming
like you’re drowning in the middle of the ocean with out a soul in sight or a harbour to call home,
but what about the waves,
that come later and later,
fewer and farther apart,
less of an impact but they’ll knock the air out of you regardless.
I always forget about the waves until I’m thrashing against them fighting to get a breath of air,
my toes can touch the bottom and yet I’m still struggling in the ocean none the less,
“it’s just the waves, they come and they go”
I tell myself,
let go, give in, go with the flow,
eventually it all passes.
But every time the waves come,
and they’ll never stop coming,
every time it catches me a little off guard.
black and blue
I spent months with bruised thighs
from digging in my finger tips
any time I was alone with you.
Everything you said cut like a knife
and yet there I was dangling off your edges
black and blue and red all over.
Hanging off your every word like I could become the me you wanted me to be
not realizing that your problem was with you
there was nothing I could have done to be understood by you.
I tore myself up from the inside out
trapped in a body I no longer knew
contorting myself into whatever arrangement might please you most.
Trying and trying yet nothing worked
nothing was good enough
I was still the villain in your story.
But how come I’m the one who walked away with scars
while you’re unchanged?
Baby you’re the fire and the gasoline
I’m the wood that you burn
up in smoke and into the universe
mingling with the stars.
That’s what you didn’t expect
for me to come out of your destruction reborn
a better version of myself.
No thanks to you.
Surviving you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do.
I cherish myself for pulling through.
Nothing hurts like you
but at least my legs are no longer black and blue
I’m finally climbing out the other side, away from you.
“suicide” is not a dirty word
Meghan’s interview has got me thinking,
reflecting on my own experiences
& the human experience.
Watching people argue & analyze
whether or not she meant it
or is just being dramatic, trying to garner sympathy.
I can’t help but see the parallels to my own story.
My whole life I’ve been told
my big feelings make other people uncomfortable.
I should shrink them down
keep them a secret
otherwise I’m just looking for attention.
Have you ever told someone you want to kill yourself
with tears streaming down your face
only to be met with rolled eyes?
I would go to sleeping lulling myself with the thought
“if you still feel like this tomorrow, we’ll finally do it”
feeling relieved that at least I wasn’t bothering anyone with my feelings.
We live in a society where being suicidal is shameful
or unbelievable if your life looks too comfy from the outside.
How hard is it to just offer love and compassion?
Does staring into darkness make it too hard
to confront ones own demons?
Who amongst us has not felt it’s pull?
To feel such agony that the only option is an escape
And then on top of that
to be told you’re faking it, just being dramatic, looking for attention.
This obsession to fit people into our own conceptions of them
to force them into boxes that fit our narrative
stripping them of their humanity
has got
to
stop.
teenage dreams
You know those teen movies
you know the ones
that eternal summer
dripping popsicles
scuffed up converse
running around the carnival
lana del rey playing in the background
thinking that life is hard
not knowing how hard it really is
that us against the world mentality
filmed in gritty 90s tint
the drugs and the sex just breaking through the surface
“coming of age” they call it
we had that.
you and me, us against the world
two misfits who found each other
the few memories I’ve preserved
would be nothing if it hadn’t been for you
my partner in crime
the yin to my yang
we were those kids that weren’t alright
but somehow
we were
with each other
a beautiful, cinematic, triumph.
spring reverie
A rose gold sky that baths light over the land
tricking the eye
momentarily distracting from the deteriorating snow piles.
I smile to myself,
inhaling a burst of air into my sleepy lungs.
The little things.
As she rises, she changes
showing us all her beautiful shades
Reaching out over the grass, caressing all she meets.
The air is fresh and full
of teasing spring scents
wet dirt, flowers pushing through the earth, animals awakening.
Just like that, and my heart is warmed
what once seemed distant, too distant to look forward to,
is now so close.
life’s a beach
salty breeze licking at the nape of a bare neck
the gentle crashing of waves upon the shore
a night sky full of twinkling stars, so far away
a new night sky that is all different and all the same.
long tanned legs laid out languorously against red cushions
covered in sand and oil and the stillness of the night
there hangs in the air a certain quality
an importance that is neither here nor there.
there is laughter in the distance
all too familiar and yet somehow impossible to connect to
the mood here is all too different
the energy underneath it hums and burns.
the pitter patter of nervous hearts
the conversation deep and engulfing
my head a mess of uncertainty
I am once again searching for answers I can not find.
the best memories attached to the worst people
how can someone have such a duality within
to show such carelessness
only to turn around and envelop you in a caring that is far too much.
perhaps if it had been a different time
a different beach
a different life
but then, all the damage has already been done.
memories will fade like tans
or maybe more like waves, coming in and out
bringing with them new stones to overturn
taking with them the fragments of shells.
one man wrecking ball
A one man wrecking ball.
You see him surrounded by admirers’
Never alone, always a pair.
You think, him? Everyone loves him.
He must be a Good Guy.
Yet you haven’t seen him in almost a year and you still have nightly nightmares.
The things he said and did haunt your thoughts daily.
“People aren’t all good or all bad”
You remind yourself.
But how come no one else sees the bad?
How come he’s allowed to hurt people with no reproach?
A broken boy who stacks his defenses up and launches a war at the first sign of storms
But he doesn’t see himself for the storm.
I wanted too much, I came on too strong, I cried one too many times.
Does that mean that I deserved to be treated like a villain?
Did I deserve to be told “everyone hates you. Stop crying, we all know you’re faking it”?
Of course not but nobody sees that.
Or they all averted their eyes and pretended I was the evil girl who deserved it.
It’s easy to justify your actions when you shut out the damage you’ve done.
It’s easy to say “it wasn’t my fault” when you have a whole chorus of followers behind you, cheering on your vindictive ways.
I can not blame him for being charismatic or being loved
But I do blame him for using it against me.
For trying to hurt me because he wasn’t ready to heal himself.
Because what people don’t see is the trail of broken hearts and broken girls
Left behind in the wake of a one man wrecking ball.
the multiverse theory
People are so concerned with themselves
no one cares how they hurt others
everyone is too obsessed with their own world
to ever notice anyone elses’.
We speak of multiverses as if it’s some sci-fi theory
yet it exists in front of our very eyes
each person lives their own creation
yours, slightly different than mine.
How much more enriched we’d be
if we simply took the time to celebrate one another
to really appreciate each world and
the multitudes they contain.
Instead we are obsessed with making sure our own worlds get noticed.
Notice me! Notice me!
we scream into the ether
failing to hear everyone screaming around us.
We are doomed by our own petulant selfishness
to miss out on so much depth
to have the chance to feel understood, less alone
all for some self-preservation, that doesn’t exist.
Eventually we are returned to an eternal slumber
snuffing out the light of our universe within
lost forever to a world
that doesn’t even being to know what they’ve lost.
love letter to the universe
There is something innately peaceful about
a snowy field in the middle of the night.
You can really hear your thoughts,
hear them sync up with the pulse of the universe.
I look out across the roaming vista,
inhaling the frigid air into my icy lungs
I am both exactly where I should be,
and somehow, nowhere at all.
The wind picks up and the trees dance
while the stars above twinkle and shine
the universe is having a celebration
and tonight, I am the guest of honour.
It is impossible not to let your thoughts run free, out there.
All of the room, all of the stillness
they coalesce to form a beautiful symphony
a harmony between nature, and me.
That we should ever feel alone is absurd,
for who could be alone in the universe
when she herself is a kind of alive.
On nights like these, its easy to imagine, its just her and me.
pretty words for wicked girls 