“They don’t love. They play. They’re big, cruel children and they want shiny new toys. You’re shiny and new. He’s playing you.”
Lament
relationships
– E. E. Cummings
QuotesSomeone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth and the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.
Consistency
Original PoetryPure happiness never lasts.
Humanity, or rather, society,
lacks a little something called consistency.
And thus, a lack of trust
invades the hearts of the vulnerable,
easily exploited by the cold hearted.
A Summer of Love
Original WritingI’ll remember that summer as the summer of love. It’s defined by the taste of your coffee-stained lips under a city sunset and falling in love with eyes so deep, floating amidst Venus. I’ll remember that summer by the touch of your fingertips tracing an intoxicating path down my shirt. I’ll remember that summer as the summer I fell in love with the idea of falling for someone as endearing as you.
Distance
Original PoetryWhere there is distance
rises the possibility
of uncertainty
which will forever
douse the fire
within us all.
– Carol Rifka Brunt
Quotes[We] would look at each other all the way across that room without saying a single word. And we’d hear each other.
Tell the Wolves I’m Home
Love That Moves Like Air
Quotes“And if love moves like air, then teach me how to dig my nails into the palm of my hand so I can remember what you once felt like.”
From Morning to Midnight
Original WritingHe’s my content sigh in the morning and my last thought before I sleep. He also happens to be everything in between.
Violet
Original PoetryPerhaps I just fell in love
with the sensation of his lips on my ear,
his breath on my skin
as he whispered my name,
whilst I watched a pink sky
blend into
violet.
“…take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic.”
Original WritingI stumbled across this quote a few nights ago, and it struck a chord with me; I guess it sounded more lyrical and less syntactical to me. I investigated this quote, which I saw was written by Frida Kahlo (although the origins are still debatable) a little further, and found there was a whole poem to it. The poem is now referred to as “Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell”, which I have re-written as an open letter. I hope you fall in love with it as I have!
Leaving you is not enough; you must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change the locks even on the house he’s never visited. You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona, but not nearly so arid. Don’t wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes, your problems are papier match puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them, You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic. Make the first bottle you consume in this place a relic. Place it on whatever alter you fashion with a knife and five cranberries. Don’t lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid. You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street.
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