fragments of a moment

cross legged on the floor writing

as he reads a hardcover I brought him

music fills the space between us and

the scent of citrus permeates the air

today we have no schedule

if we wanted to we could take a nap

in the middle of the afternoon

and wake up without an alarm clock

shaking our dreams so callously

back to reality

if we wanted to we could build a fort and have popcorn and wine for dinner

and watch Netflix until our eyes overcame with sleep

but instead we are

here.

in the sweet comfort and mutual understanding and

respect for our needs.

I’ve been so exhausted I haven’t had energy

to pay lady inspiration a visit lately

and he knows this.

so he lays with a book in hand and I sprawl

all my pens and journals on the living room carpet

and kindly ask creativity

to join me for a writing date.

And up above I can almost see love smiling down on us proudly

vaguely remembering the days

we swore off

commitment

for good.

 

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For Sundays

The humming of the refrigerator has become my favorite sound.

It’s Sunday and we’re up before the sun, laying side by side with our backs flat on the shaggy carpet in the living room. Blankets cover our bodies and I place a sleep mask over my eyes. He opts for his blue bandanna. We breathe deeply, our arms intertwined and hands clasped. I try to listen to every sound, but it is so early the rest of the world is still sleeping.  There’s just the humming of the refrigerator and the swooshing of our breaths filling the space around us. In and out. With my third eye I see flashes of light and a never ending dark night sky. And when the time comes to fully return to my senses and this body in this world,  I will see a sky colored in pink, purple, and orange, and he will still be wrapped up tight in a blanket and I will look back at him and wonder how it is that the sight of him can rival a sunrise.

I live for these little moments when I can feel so full and whole and safe.

For slow Sundays and sunrises and plans of forts while drinking coffee and making pancakes. For the every day magic and the humming of the refrigerator that keeps me believing life is worth living. Love is worth giving.

 

 

edge of change

I’ve fought for a lot in this life

and if I have to add our love to the list

then so be it.

I will not just walk away

from the storms and tears.

And I won’t let you do the same.

I’ll face them head on

shatter in pieces in front of you

if that’s what it takes for you to realize

that even crashing waves can’t keep me away from the sea.

I love the ocean too much.

Just the way I love you.

Without limits, borders, or end

My emotions crash down like 10 feet waves and

I pack my bags but can’t seem to leave

This door never felt so heavy and big before

And if I have to carry the strength to support

your heart, darling

Trust me when I say that I got it. I can handle it. Life and death have made me strong

And these tears I spill in front of you, these hesitant feet, are proof of it.

I learned to stay and not run away anymore.

Even when washed ashore

You will find me at the edge of the sea the next chance I get.

Don’t give up on me.

I never wanted anything more

than you and I

and this love.

my spirit animal is a cockroach

I was born good at building home inside a box.

I was born good at organizing my insides so they look nice and neat for others.

I was born good at fighting the fight and hiding the tears.

So I shouldn’t be judged too harshly when I resort to doing those things. But let’s talk about the weight of carrying the world on your shoulders.

Tell him you love your scars now that you have them, but it hurts knowing and remembering just how you got them. Tell him sometimes you wish you had just been one more privileged kid. Too. Tell him you just want to be happy. Too.

And so what if challenges gave you strength?

So what if the battles gave you character?

How far can those two traits get you these days anyways. Some of the strongest people are still having fights with God and praying for things to change.

You will survive because you have before.
Survival instinct isn’t asleep inside you any longer. I’m pretty sure that’s how these things go. But what do I really know. I don’t mind the idea of having a spirit animal I just wish mine wasn’t a cockroach.

Maybe I’ll keep the stories to myself. The pain locked tight inside.
Or maybe my heart is big enough to carry that, plus love.

Wanderlust

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Let’s get away.
Away from all the to-do’s and must-haves and shoulds that the world seems to constantly want to shove into our days. Away from schedules and alarm clocks.
I want to fall asleep under a starry sky held tight in your arms and wake up with your breath still hot on my neck. Let’s just go, follow the dirt road until we can’t anymore, until the river turns into a creek, until the air gets crisp, until we find the perfect spot to lose track of time. And then let’s stay there for a bit, immersed in the magic of it all, just you and me and the sunshine and the breeze and this life we have built. Darling, let’s go away for some time and live as if we’ve never known pain before. As if we’ve never been strangers to one another at one point in time. As if all we have is this moment, right here, right now, with the sun in our eyes and so much hope in our hearts for everything that’s still to come.