writer's block

tell me something to say to break this inadvertent cycle of holding my proverbial tongue
running out of words is a foreign concept to an artist like me, 
painting pictures with the syllables that rattle off my tongue
and yet here i sit, with absolutely no way to articulate the dreams lingering on my insides.

glimpses of the past month

"before i lay me down to sleep 
my incoherent thoughts seem to stumble into something condusive
like another world, a fairytale. 

and when i wake once again, 
i find that my seemingly captivating thoughts
were merely misfirings in my brain called
dreams."

"fear shoots down my spine, i feel like it's all coming to its demise. and then you speak little god-whispers, a lullaby that drowns out the storm."

"i wished on my star that you would be waiting for me in the distant corridors of my oh-so-fragile heart, reminding me of your willingness to take up permanent residency. oh, how i hope the search is over." 

"love, when it is true, when it is right, will complicate the simple, yet simplify the complicated. but love, when it is wrong, will complicate both the simple and the complicated."

"you asked me for a love song so i'm writing you goodbye"

edge

i've run so far and now i can't seem to break the winner's ribbon. i want to stay on this side, because it's all i've worked for and i wouldn't want it to be over. but i know if i break that line, it's all done. there's no walking back over the that line and taping the ribbon back together. it's the end of everything i've battled through and trained for. do i dare cross the line to discover what's on the other side?

waiting.

you promised me the world hand in hand,
dream in dream, lifetime in lifetime,
you promised me that no matter what the outcome,
i'd always be able to stare at you and smile.

and perhaps that's still the case.

but here i stand, sitting on my hands
the most beautiful contradiction i've never
wanted to walk away from.

i just want to see my name handwritten
all over the confines of your oh-so-broken heart
because i know that in the end,
my name looks better there anyway.

yet here i stand, sitting on my hands
praying that you'll come back and never leave
even though you never walked away.

careful, the beverage you are about to enjoy is extremely hot.

thanks, starbucks. i wouldn't have remembered had i not seen that beautiful green printed reminder on the bottom of the cup.

[sigh] i wish life had reminders like that:

careful, the love you're about to enjoy is a lot like that coffee; if you're not careful, you'll enjoy it for a moment, but you'll end up burned and with a bitter taste in your mouth.