Tag: love

Can’t Help Falling In Love

I believe in love. Perhaps not love at first sight, perhaps not soul mates, but I believe that it is possible to fall deeply in love with another person, no matter how long you’ve known said person. I also believe that there are varying degrees of love: I love Garrett as a partner. I love Caitlin as a little sister. I love Grace as a best friend, practically a sister. I love Carver by default, because he is Garrett’s twin and no matter how annoying he can be, his emotions and actions affect my relationship- even if he doesn’t mean for them to.

It’s this that has been causing a lot of pain recently. I hate to throw Carver under the bus, but he and his girlfriend have been having issues and while I try to be compassionate, it’s frustrating to see Garrett so upset and so angry over something neither of us can control. I’m good friends with Sophie now, and I care for Carver as if he were my own brother (and he is just as obnoxious as mine), but their problems are affecting what little time I have with my boyfriend and it’s ANNOYING. When Garrett gets so pissed off that he breaks a pencil and cuts his hand, I can’t continue to stand back and let this carry on as it has.

Relationships are all or nothing for me, and this has caused me a lot of pain in the past. However, I don’t foresee this happening in the near future with Garrett, so I’m going to continue to worry about him and get angry when someone upsets him. Even if that someone is his brother and one of my good friends.

Sorry for ranting about people you probably don’t care about. Enjoy the video as retribution 🙂


Love Harder

Three letters.

Three notes

So full of honesty

That I nearly choked on the strength of them

While I was pouring them

Onto those clean sheets of paper.

I love the number three;

I think I may have mentioned that,

At some point or another,

Though I can’t remember for sure.

Things have been like that a lot recently.

I keep finding that the little memories

Are slowly slipping away from me.

You’d think I would mind:

You’d think I’d object to losing

A second with you,

Even if the seconds I’m losing

Are ones already spent in your company.

I don’t, though.

I’ve found that I don’t care

If I forget some tiny details,

Because I remember the emotions.

I remember how it feels

To be curled up against your side,

Even if I can’t remember our conversation.

On top of that, I’m fine with replacing

The old memories with new ones-

Each sweeter than the last.

I’ve never been one of those people

Who puts everything into a relationship.

I’m always too afraid

To fall as hard as I’m ought to

Into arms that might not care

As much as they pretend to.

With you, though, with you

I can’t help but give up everything,

Can’t help but give you my entire being

And every mistake and heartbreak

That I’ve accumulated over the years-

As well as a lifetime of pent-up love

That now I bestow on you.

Hush, Be Still

He wraps his warm arms

Around my shaking shoulders,

Sharing his heat with me

As we hide together

Under a quilt sewn

By someone long dead.

I can just make out

The bright glittering

Of his dark blue eyes,

Can barely see the curve of his lips

Just before they descend

Upon my creased brow.

“Hush,” he mutters,

“Hush, be still.

Horrors felt shall soon disperse

Amongst those who deserve

Our terror more than us.”

Unable to calm myself,

I curl closer to his chest

And let the steady rhythm

Of his thumping heart

Lull me into a fitful sleep

Made sweeter by his presence.

Bite My Tongue

There are teardrops dripping

Over my ever-smiling lips;

Their salty sweetness

Is so familiar a taste

I could almost describe it

In my deepest sleep-

That is, I could

If only I ever slept.

My cheeks ache

With the echoes of a million

Fake grins and hollow laughter.

Nothing holds my attention;

How could it, when I am so empty

That even the warmth

Of his strongest hugs

Can’t fight away the darkness

Eating away at my heart,

The way they used to

When my eyes were dry.


This was written for Writing 201: Poetry

Release, the sweet letting go

Of all thy fears that lurk below.

A fair maid her hair did unravel;

Her gentle lover taketh her ankle

And did brush his soft lips

From toe to the curve of her hips.

Her nails she dug into his hair,

Entranced by the tingly feeling there.

Release, the sweet letting go

Of thy inhibitions that destroy thee so.

O! pain, thou turnest to pleasure,

Thou makest her scream as she fucketh her sir.

Back to My Roots

This was written for Writing 201: Poetry

Cracked sidewalk,

Running beside overgrown bushes

That moan under the weight

Of immense unknown blossoms.

It leads me to my own home,

Where he waits alone

Under the stone archway.

His hipbone protrudes;

I can see it through his shirt,

Which I’m sure he’s sprayed

With his sweet cologne.

I can almost hear his deep groan,

Muttered into my ear as I attone

For having flown away from our safe zone.


As anyone who knows me personally (or even vaguely, to be completely honest with you) can attest, I am not a people person. I’m actually really, really bad with human beings. I’m constantly irritated by the shit people think they can do and say, and I think that’s why I prefer blogging, texting, or writing to actually talking to people. Honestly, there are only a few people I know who I haven’t completely alienated in the past three years, and some of those are slipping away from me as we speak. Er, as I type.

But anyway, I didn’t decided to post today to flounder under the weight of my own pathetic people skills. Nope, today I want to blather on about rain.

You heard me right.

It’s been raining pretty constantly the past couple weeks here, and I always get into a contemplative mood when the weather is like this. Last night I was curled up in a blanket, reading Beautiful Chaos, and the only noise in my room was the rustling of pages and the steady tap-tap-tap of the rain on my roof. I was feeling extremely Zen.

When I read, I get into this… mood. I’m either oblivious to the world or completely focused on every little detail around me, and yesterday was a strange mix of the two. I had to keep pausing as I read because the rain lulled me into a daze and I would just stare at the same sentence for a couple seconds before realizing what I was doing.

I get like that a lot when it’s raining. I also sleep better, because the pitter-patter beats out a tune and I just crash. On top of that, my dreams are more intense and more realistic.

I really like the rain. I like how it feels on my head when I run into the high school from the parking lot. I like how it sounds when it’s coming at the house sideways and beats against the windows in the keeping room. I like how it looks as it splatters on the lake at the Dagley’s house.

I just really love rain.


I’m unusually captivated

By the way the world looks

In the shimmering glare bouncing

Between the passing lights

And my filthy window.

I suppose I could wash it,

Wipe the smeared fingerprints away,

But I can’t bring myself to:

The swirling marks tell stories

That sing to me during long rides

When the car grows so loud

I have to push in earbuds

And hide from their voices.

The smallish hands,

With the long pinkies;

My fingers, my smudges.

And around those,

His hands,

Slender fingers

Wrapped around my own,

Marking the places

Our two persons conjoin.