we meet again

There you are

My familiar friend

My broken heart,

You refuse to mend.

A grieving heart with time

May heal,

But a thousand broken in one

Will steal …

From love,

From life,

From soul,

And time


Let me forget

This broken mess 

Is mine.


the way of the storm.

storms create madness

The rain sings to me like a siren in the night sky

If I survive the night,
I will live with the guilt I bear
For ever thinking
I didn’t want to.

You don’t know me as I know myself,
Liquid, fluid,
Like memories rolling down the cheek of a widow,
Subject to her flaws and structure
Never allowed to flow freely as they wish.

I am no widow.
I am the child of a mother
Who wishes she had never been such a thing.

To know love is to hate it,
And to hate it is to know suffering
As only a lover can.

If I could be released from my prison of flesh I would.
But my life,
My ego,
Does not will it so.

My honesty limits its awareness
And thus threatens its being.

I’m required to resist the temptation to merge …

To merge with the unknown,
The horror that is the invisible,
The cruelty that is death.

Only I know all of these things by their true name.

I am the friend,
I am the believer,
I am the fearful, tearful victim
Of its merciless ways.
All of these things, I willingly become.

Death is not a punishment.
Death is the answer.
Death need not be feared, for it walks with us
When we think we are alone.

It is the sanity that makes us whole;
It is the partner that holds us
When we think all is lost.

Death is not the end,
It is who we are.

And if we allow it,
No fear shall ever plague us again.

My soul calls to bring me to my savior.
It says that my suffering has
Been thorough and just.

My life will not be lost but cherished …
Only by those who understood
That I sought to find the truth among the restless lies of reality.

Please let them know I loved more than I could handle,
And endured all that I was built to bear.

No one should live to see the truth of her true being
Graphically displayed before her.

All those who are pure of spirit shall find peace within their hearts,
Whether it be through dreams,
Or illusions.
Those things are as true as that which is viewed with God’s own eyes.

Everything, in its own way, shall be revealed.
It’s only you who shall know the truth
As it has been told to you …

neo grunge.

Courtney Love, among other grunge icons, for Saint Laurent. LOVE.




Some days, more than sleep,
I need silence.


shades of … flamingo.

Why am I into this freakishly pink bird right now? No idea. I think I just want it to be summer so badly, I’m craving warm-weather things … like flamingos … ? Crazy thing is, this just hit me today. I was sitting at my desk at work, and like a strike of pink lightning, a flamingo flashed in my head and all I thought was, “yesss.” Now I HAVE to have something with this bird on it – or things colored like a flamingo. Flamingos tend to be a little ombre colored, so lucky for me there are a ton of different shades of pink that will curb my craving for them. Pairing flamingo with navy is perfect … or possibly flamingo and olive? I like that, too! Ah. I’m off to go find me something fun and flamingo … if you find anything good, let me know, k?

shades of ... flamingo.

minty fresh.

The color I’m craving right now? Mint. This isn’t anything new, I wanted it a while back, I just want it more now. Specifically I want mint jeans. Shades of green in general are hot right now – Pantone’s color of the year is Emerald, after all. I might be bold enough to pull off emerald on top, but emerald pants, etc. scare me a bit. Mint, however … totally doable. Plus it goes so well with lace (which is also totally on trend). Time to do some shopping! What colors are you currently craving?


object of my affection.

My innocence; my depression. I am an object. These are my affections.


Thought Catalog

Thought Catalog is a digital youth culture magazine dedicated to your stories and ideas.

Thought Catalog

Thought Catalog is a digital youth culture magazine dedicated to your stories and ideas.