to a galaxy.

a smile, and what next?
there’s no guide for this sort of thing.
a genuine laugh, a touch
of colliding interests,
and now what?

two shining souls at a bar,
in a living room,
surrounded by two-dimensional
shapes—friends, that’s the word,

but what about you?

teetering between definitions,
a stranger, and yet,
so much more.

if I were to speak a bit softer,
and if you were to move
a bit closer, what then?
we say hello like it’s an introduction.

the conversation continues
like we’re dancing.

in your presence, I swear—
you make this cramped space
appear magical, a ballroom and us beneath
crystal chandeliers.

but I am unprepared for your ethereal
existence, the way you so easily
coax out my courage, my brash
thinking, or not thinking, only

feeling, flying, falling—

if you are a galaxy than I am
just one star. I am nothing
to your brilliance
and what does a star have to say
to the sky that holds it,
to the black velvet it has never been
afraid of but it has never really
understood, either.

I can see myself giving in to you,
piece by fragile piece.

there are too many questions to answer.
I think I love you but I think
I don’t know how to.

Nam H Nguyen I tried to stick to your prompt but the poem sort of spiraled away… I hope you still like this one. :3
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our tragedy.

a part of my soul reaches for yours,
and we are eternally
entwined.

in the silence, we exchange a bouquet
of I love yous
and we expect the pain to fade.

as soon as our hearts stitch together
you decide to rip out your sutures,
so now I’m left, open, empty.

desperately I try to save you
as my own saviors come running,
but you’re in my arms so they don’t bother trying.

you are the angel in this relationship.
aren’t you supposed to guard me?
salvation isn’t supposed to feel like dying.

you clipped your wings and asked me
to fly the both of us to safety,
but I am dust and you are wind–

you pull me along,
I go where you go, and darling,
you pull so roughly.

I still have a million unpresented declarations
of undying love and unending forgiveness.
they’re waiting for you in the back of my closet.

so we’ve reached a sort of tranquility,
and on the edge of this cliff
you start breathing

so I deem us saved and you agree,
as my feet slip on stones,
there you are reaching.

everything is okay, right?
the scars are all healing, the bleeding
has ceased and the bathroom no longer calls

your name from the pink hallways
we wandered as children.
the air is biting–

all the fight has left me.
I’m sorry but I wasn’t trained
for this kind of existence.

our story is unfinished but I haven’t
the strength to keep writing.

artist.

she is fascinated
by the human body–
especially
the insides, the parts
you never see,
unless you specialize
in ripping apart flesh
to find the muscles
underneath.

she sketches beating hearts
& working organs.
does she know how she worships
the struggle to live?

she draws lines,
effortless shapes,
over paper, over skin
that is her own, but sometimes
she does not believe it is.

allowing ink to seep in,
allowing her existence,
that thread of vibrant, aura-like

life

to ebb from her fingertips
& onto the colors she spills
on the canvas.

she labels her art
as her pain, her expression
& yet, it is her joy,
her healing
also.

break the silence.

Today’s daily prompt is silence, but this post is about not being silent.

First of all, I have 100 WordPress followers! How amazing is that? To know that I’ve touched all of you in some way with my poetry makes me want to do a Snoopy-style happy-dance.

Image result for snoopy happy dance gif tumblr

Secondly, as you may have noticed, I’m participating in this year’s NaNoWriMo. (To those who don’t know about NaNoWriMo, it takes place in the month of November, and all participants are challenged to write a 50,000 word novel within that month. That’s about 1700 words a day!)

A little fun fact: I started writing stories way before I started writing poetry. What I love most about writing is how it can take you to different worlds, immerse you in the lives of your characters, and-like poetry often does-it makes you feel. Every time I sit down to write I find myself soaking up the human experience.

But, I will admit: writing is by no means easy. I have yet to finish any of the stories I’ve started, and god knows how many unwritten ideas are still floating around in my head. Not to mention I don’t do too well with commitment.

NaNoWriMo was introduced to me by a very close friend and fellow novelist. (She is constantly putting her writing down, but guys/gals, she’s an amazing writer.) I remember getting weekly updates on her novel each November for about three years straight. It was wonderful to see her story unfold, to fall in love with her characters. Even getting her through the rough patches of the month (and there were a few) felt rewarding!

I thought, ‘This is a writer at work. This is creation.’ I thought, ‘That’s what I want to do.’

No lie, it’s taken me three years to work up the courage to commit to NaNo. Even now, I’m nervous, anxious, beyond-fearful of my own failure. I didn’t want to tell anyone about it because, wow, what a let down when I can’t do it!

Image result for shame tumblr gif sorry

Yeah, I think I suck as a writer. Would anyone want to read my novel? Probably not. But that’s not what NaNo is about. That’s not what I want it to be about.

This is me, finally recognizing that I have something to say. I don’t have to be silent. In fact, I’m gonna break the silence. I’m going to fill the silence up with words, and I don’t care how dirty or overused those words look. I’m going to write them all up and out.

When it’s over I’m going to celebrate. With what, I don’t know yet. I’ll figure that out. But I’m going to be happy about what I can accomplish.

We have to take everything one day at a time, whether it’s writing a novel or just living your life. A lot of us carry self-doubt and fears the way a parent of a severely-allergic-kid carries an EpiPen. There are countless obstacles and hurdles. Sometimes we jump over them, sometimes we hobble around them.

I guess my point is that I’m done being silent. I’m taking the first step by announcing my commitment to NaNoWriMo. I know I have the support of my writing friends. Your wonderful comments continue to inspire me as well.

Thanks for reading this rant and my poetry!

Image result for i love you all tumblr gif

 

Coffee, part four.

It’s Sunday afternoon. My weekend’s almost over. I’m soaking up the last few hours of freedom with gingerbread cookies and poetry.

My week was largely uneventful, as usual. I got together with a friend (you may have read about her once or twice…) and we had some needed conversations. Do you have a friend that says all the right things exactly when you need them to? She’s that for me.

I go shopping and realize how ridiculous this nation is about material things. Go into your local supermarket or Target or whatever and just think about how much stuff is on those shelves. A hundred different versions of the same exact product, not because we need that much variety, but because we want it.

Yo quiero, yo quiero.

Speaking of: I’m learning Spanish on a nifty little app. Don’t ask me to say anything, because I can’t.

I was at a party the other day and started talking with someone. She told the most wonderful story of a spontaneous road-trip she and her (now ex-)husband took up to Nova Scotia. It sounded like the best story idea, and I’ve been itching to write it, though I know I won’t be able to do it justice.

I finished CW’s Supergirl, Season 1. Supergirl is by far one of my favorite superheroes. I feel like the CW portrayal did her justice, though I will still prefer the comic books. Cat Grant is my favorite character of the show, Kara 2nd. How does that work?

How was your week? Enjoying your coffee?

Song I’m currently listening to: In The End, by Linkin Park

Some blog posts that caught my attention this week: