The stalker poem….

So yeah I write, here Ya go:

I keep biting my lip
Imagining that you’re kissing me.
I lace my fingers together
And pretend
That I can feel the warmth of your hand in mine.
I breathe in with eyes closed tight
And for just a second
I smell you on the sheets
You’ve never slept in.
I drift off to sleep and for those measly moments
When I’m spinning between reality
And a dream
I’m in your arms
Spinning on a dance floor
To our song
Listening to your heart
And in my mind
It
Beats just for me.
Someday
It won’t be in my head
Someday you’ll lay beside me
Arms around me
Safe in your bed
And we’ll honestly Be in love.
Again and forever

Life is weird

When I was little, I always though the Military life style was honourable; however it was never ever for me. I couldn’t be tied to someone who was going to be so far from me. I couldn’t deal with the fact that there was a pretty big chance he (or she) wouldn’t come home.
I find myself in love today, with a boy who’s army bound in a few months. Taking to basics in 80 days. I never thought 80 was a small number but 80 days with someone you love? 80 days of talking and laughing and falling deeper in love…and then contact is sorta lost, you write letters and such but it’s not like it used to be. And I’m terrified for him. I’m scared out of my mind that he’ll get hurt. I’m afraid that he’ll hate it and be unhappy with his choices…. I’m even more afraid that he loves it. That’s all I have to say today I’m afraid. love always 7free

The woes of timing

I read a quote a million years ago, I forget who said it but you can look it up if you’d like; it read “All you need is bravery and perfect timing, but timing is a bitch so good luck,” and I always thought it was a funny little statement. How can timing be hard? How can picking a moment be detrimental to your whole life and to you as a whole?!
I’m starting to understand that question now. I’ve never been one to “pick my moments” I either don’t speak at all or I voice what comes to mind or heart the second it makes itself known to me. I have a friend, a wonderfully horrible friend who I love very much as just that; a friend my lovely Angel is what I call him and we have our history of perfect timing. Of well placed relationships and kisses and the never over used “I love you” used just when it needed to be used. As of late our timing has been a bit off;
He and his wretched significant other have been together for a very long time and I had known him to be extraordinarily unhappy but in hopes of not crossing lines I have always kept my tongue, tried to chose my Moment for once in my young life. I waited so long to pick my moment I forgot about it; I drifted from him and I fell hopelessly for my current SO, my brave little Soldier. My Angel; it seems, was picking his moment too. He told me of his affections too late and now we are both less than euphoric. I send this story as lesson to you; timing is a bitch. Holding back and waiting until it’s right to speak what you know or feel is like holding poison in your mouth; too much exposure and you will die. So spit your poison my friends. It’ll help you in the long run love always 7free

Jigsaw

I am a puzzle piece. A human shaped puzzle piece who does human things. We are all puzzle pieces but we have one big misconception. The world is not one single puzzle. We are not restricted to one puzzle, we can for one, or many or sometimes none at all. The worst experiences are where we force ourselves to fit. We crinkle our edges and change our prints to fit into a puzzle we want to be in…. But in our butchering and crinkling of ourselves we no longer fit were we belong and that is true isolation. I am a mangles puzzle piece. My edges are frayed from my changes and my colours worn down from over use. Even now as I write this I am crumbling, my edges seeing if they can make room in this pretty new puzzle. Let’s hope it’s finally my perfect fit. Keep looking for your puzzles my darlings, don’t force your fit with love 7free

Strangers

Have you ever had the moment? The moment you walk into a small room full of people who you barely know. Who’s names you never really learned and they never leaned yours either, you’ve heard stories about a few. The boy in the corner is the violent stoner that no one really talks to, the one on the chair? I head from a friend from a friend that he’s a soft core rapist because she was too high to say no. You sit there with them and someone makes a joke because they’re all close; you’re the outsider, and you laugh. They stop and look at you and they laugh at your laugh and then you’re all laughing together. You learn that the “soft core rapist” is a really funny geeky kid who wants to be an engineer. That the “violent stoner” is down to earth, funny as all hell, and though he’ll punch walls and desks and doors he wouldn’t hurt a fly. You befriend these people, you learn their names and their stories and you share your own and you aren’t strangers anymore. That’s the moment. The moment mid-laugh when you realise the people you feared and avoided and thought better than you… They’re you’re friends. It makes me feel like I just crawled out of the breakfast club.
I love that feeling, I love that it gives me the potential to live in a world without strangers. And that makes me happy. love always 7free

Superior roots

I couldn’t stand being in my house anymore, so I went outside and I curled up in the grass as if to fall asleep. A moth landed next to me and flew away and it left me with a thought. Why are humans “superior”? I look to the moth who can fly and flutter and live and love outside exposed to the elements and still have the strength to float and fly, I look to the grass that has the resilience to withstand all weather and come back again and again no matter it’s defeat; and I look to the trees that stand tall and proud to matter what, that die every year and come back even more amazing and give us food and air and life…. Why am I superior to that? Because I possess the cruelty to rip the wings from the moth? Because I have the power to uproot the grass? Because I have the technology to cut down the tree? That does not make me superior. That makes me ashamed to be human.

love always 7free