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All Boxed Up
Sometimes I feel like a cardboard box ( Read more... ) -
No punctuation
It was like any other day I stood in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to be ready it always takes so long I could save same time by making it the night before but I never do I poured my coffee and headed into the shower I do my best thinking there I put the music on and let the water wash away all the trivial thoughts they say it’s the little ( Read more... ) -
Bottles
My heart quickened as it always did as I exited the freeway ( Read more... ) -
Big Pond
It's not even my first day but I can feel how big it is. On the precipice of this giant leap. I sit here in this new coffee shop, new chair, new people. Watching the rain outside of the window. Ominous music is always the best on these days. The rain seems to create some sort of depth in everything. Instrumental and somber is what the world sounds ( Read more... ) -
Escape
This is where I’ll go. You won’t find me here because you won’t bother to look ( Read more... ) -
Expiration date
There is a shelf life on us. To the detriment of whatever we build. Someone forgot to post the date.
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Wish you were here
You're standing right in front of me, arms across your chest. Absent presence. Is this what you call being alive? I'd rather feel it 100% and live through this instead of think about it. I will thrive off the truth as I feel it and not over analyze it. You rationalize your illusions because it makes you feel safe, enjoy your glass box.
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Nola nights
The sweet smell of cloves masking the scent of urine in the gutter.
Nola you are a dirty dirty bitch
But we all know secretly everyone loves a dirty girl.
Staggering drunks are on every block, expelling there good times to the sounds of street performers playing there trombones, buckets, jogs and accordions.
Nola you are a strange ladyAs we ( Read more... ) -
Ghosts
Sleep doesn't find me here. Laying in bed listening to the fountain in the courtyard, too tired to go out but too restless to find slumber. So I write. Write about the pst, write about the present, write about the future. I do look forward to the sun rise, watching the soft glow peak in through the balcony shutters. But the next hour spent in bed ( Read more... ) -
In the late hours...
It's hard not to turn your brain off
So many things running through my head
I honestly don't understand how people expect you to be vulnerable with them when they do nothing to earn your trust.
I'm exhausted with all of the emotion, looking back into the past and seeing it all over your face.
You are my past, everything I hated about it.
You're the ( Read more... )