Tag Archives: Love

Black and White

Beauty is black and white.
Simple.
Soft.
Highlights of delicate shades of gray as she ages with grace.
Poised in elegance.
Wrinkles in silk that are still soft to the touch.
I dare you to touch.
Captivating, sinisterly seductive innocence.
Rare treasure hiding in plain sight.
A magnet for a smile that draws you in.
If only you knew the depth of her mind.
The fantasies and magic realms she dreams of.
The warmth of her unconditional love for life and the purity of her heart.
She is a light within a light.
Beauty is black and white.

Finders Keepers

I think I finally recovered all the particles of me.
I had to search all over.
It was the most exhausting quest, but worth it.
I didn’t do it alone.
His love for me shined the brightest light along the darkest paths.
His strength pulled me out of quicksand multiple times.
He sheltered me from the violent storms that ensued.
He helped put me back together, one fragile piece at a time.
You see,I was the chipped porcelain doll in the window that no one wanted.
I was imperfect in so many ways, but all he saw was beauty.
So,I write this to say thank you.
I write this to say sorry for the pain I caused.
I write this to say I love you.

Daydreaming

Sometimes I drift off into outer space.
I float slowly with my eyes closed, my arms and hands spread out at my sides.
I feel the changes of the earth’s atmosphere as it bathes my exposed skin.
I ascend.
I ascend.
I ascend.
Suspended in magic.
Weightless.
I only open my eyes when I no longer feel the wind.
I open my eyes and I look forward to seeing you at my side.
These travels are for us.
The world stands still, but our universe is infinite.
The most beautiful chaos.
Constant collisions of emotions, love, fears, truth.
They explode and generate endless stars and galaxies for us to explore.
Five words I whisper to you.
One day at a time.

Inner Thoughts

I think I’m crazy.
I think, I think too much.
Like, as I drink coffee I wonder about the workers that harvested it.
Do they wake up every morning, with pain in their joints?
Just to make two dollars a week for this five dollar cup that I enjoy.
Or, were the beans picked by a child?
A child who knows no other life than to be a servant in the fields.
I wonder if they dream?
Do they sing children songs as they count the coffee beans?
Why should I be worried?
That’s just the way the world is.
Children starve.
That’s just the way the world is.
Deprived of a childhood because, well that’s just the way the world is.
We don’t need to know the back story.
Just get it here for us to consume.
Not only have I been told that I think too much,
I have been told I love too much.
“Girl, you love everyone.”
I used to be ashamed of it.
Now, I see it as a superpower.
Being able to see beauty beneath what others call, “ugly”.
Just the other day I was able to revel in the warmest brown eyes.
Each eye held shimmering glimmers of hope and dreams.
They twinkled with life under the moonlight.
I saw all this when he asked,” Do you have a cigarette to spare?”
You see, I have super powers.
You can tell me your fears and I will listen.
You can tell me your secrets and I will lock them away for you.
I am able to love when I’m hurt.
I am able to love when I’m sad.
Even when life beats me down and I am on my knees begging god to help me understand this mess called my life.
Even when the warmth from my tears drown the sides of my face in dispair and my heart aches like it only has one or two beats left and I clutch my chest trying to soothe the painful blows from the realities of life and my lungs harden and don’t want to breath anymore.
I can still pick myself up from the muddy puddles of the world and look up at the sky and get lost in the beauty of the universe.
I can still dream about love.
I can still love you.
I love you.

Note to Self

Maybe one day I will get a hold on this thing called self.

I will understand why I cry.

I will understand why I’m so angry at things that are supposed to be beautiful.

Some days I think I’m winning, but it’s only a brief thought without any substance called proof.

I don’t know.

My answers just keep digging bigger and bigger holes of unanswered pits of questions that I keep finding.

One day it will all make sense and I can throw my shovel away.