When the silence says all you need to hear.
Anatomy of an Ocean // December 17th, 2013 // 5:02 a.m.
It’s happening again, and my mind is restless. If I am nothing but pieces of midnight longing, strung together by an ocean of desperate chaos, why is my heart so hollow? Her stringy flesh is deeply etched with the same ghostly curve that sculpts those perfect lips, coiling, spiraling, into whispered cursive, as shaky and scattered as my thoughts. Probing for a pulse, my journey coaxes me inward.
The walls I built around her are desolate, crumbling. Here, in the early morning, as the stars are just beginning to fade, one can hear every wistful sigh you’ve ever inspired winding their way around the pillars of the fallen fortress. It is through the cracks of scars and memories that desire leaks in, merciless as seawater, icy blue as your eyes, but nowhere near as paralyzing. I am the weathered glass bones in the tide of your stare, but you could splinter me between your fingers and as it all faded out, I’d kiss the indents my shattered spine left in your skin.
My eyelashes flutter against my cheekbones, and I feign that I can feel your arms around me, the first real heat I’ve found in the bitterness of this winter. Sinking against your illustrated chest, I make believe the tenderness of your breath (so real, so alive), fanning across my hair. You pull me tighter just before that beautiful mouth full of silent imagery presses softly into the top of my skull, a gesture of promise, a touch of belonging.
With so much of you woven into the very fabric of my falling star wishes, I am terrified. It is so easy to relive the words between us, and supposedly understand; so simple to stare blankly at a map, at the turbulent wrinkles in the sheets on my empty bed, at the way my cold hands curl around the structure of each other, instead of the architecture of your everything. I don’t know how to do this, and am honestly afraid, because I’m rupturing from the pressure of realizing I need you, drowning in the truth I cannot run from, and finding it strange that the only thing filling me is emptiness.
A Hand to Hold // Monday, December 16th, 2013 // 2:48 a.m.
I just let go of a couple secrets that have been poisoning me. For the last month or so, I’ve been too afraid to talk about what had happened, and the isolation was overwhelming. I began to deteriorate, spiraling out of control, and I felt like my heart was rotting from the inside out. But tonight I finally but the bullet, opened up to someone I care about, and he helped me through it.
I had never shed tears of relief before, and it was so healing to finally release my fear and feel that toxic weight drain away. Someone once told me that we are not defined by the worst that has been done to us, and that resonates so deeply with me. I am going to have to live with my past forever, and while the journey forward may not always be smooth, I am stronger than my nightmares, and they will not decide how I live the rest of my life.
the secret // sunday, december 15th, 2013 // 6:11 a.m.
people think that they
or love me
or need me
but it makes me laugh (and cry)
to know how much they
OH MY GOD
I’m so nervous for tonight, I’m officially trying out for Oregon’s Juicy Gogo team, and it’s also my first dance audition ever. Apparently, each state has a Juicy team, girls who make it will have featured profiles with photo & video on the site, AAAAND the team will be trying out as a group to dance big festivals by this spring.
This is a nice compromise, considering I have had the urge to shoot for USC’s team, but have been reluctant because acceptance means moving to Seattle. If I get this, I’ll be able to dance and make actual money doing so without uprooting my life, plus my chances of dancing at Paradiso or Kaleidoscope are higher.
About to finish this glass of wine and go do my hair & face, I MIGHT MELT FROM ALL THE ANXIETY OMG