thisisahorribleidea79

Latest Posts by thisisahorribleidea79

One of the funniest things I’ve seen all day. Thank you internet.

A Song for the Pyre

One year of joy and two of penance. I hear the birds return, and think of you listening to their call,

I hear those birds before I hear you

trusting it the sound of me, the secret and the truth of me laid bare

to sing for you alone. It was.

All those nights melted into one. All those mornings basking in your soft laughter

as you teased me, teased me, teased me, thinking I’d die before I walked away.

And I did. Oh, how I died.

In the afterlife, a saint calls me a phoenix

and all I can think is, I was reborn in flames but I never sang again.

And as I dig into my daydream about us - I ponder if I could ever share you were you mine to hold. Could I obtain enough time in your arms, open continuing exchange of the lingering gazes we can’t help but share (the ones that feel like oxygen to me) to reach the point of satiated security in “us?”

The knowledge that regardless of what beauty or wave you might wander off in search of, that our connection transcends any threat of permanent disconnection? Knowing that just a hello in your ear would call you back to my bed? Your ears hot between my thighs…

Or would I selfishly gulp from you? Your mouth? Your thoughts? Your beauty? Your laughs? Making up for what now is more time I’ve known the loss of you than I ever knew the love?

I wonder

May 5, 1931 Journals of Anais Nin 1927-1931  [volume 4]

I remember seeing you for the very first time. I remember it clearly in the hallway of our high school - in a sea of others I could feel your energy hit me like the waves of an ocean. I wanted to know you then and always.

Except I did know you. Inside and out. You just weren’t mine.

Why waste the potential of wishing for one night when you could create an everafter full of them? I think I’d take it over nothing, but it would just start the heart over in the yearning of it all. Of you. And I’m not sure I could survive that again. For the third time.

To feel the ache of the missing piece found, only to be ripped away again. And willingly? To find the answer to your call, the ebb to your flow? What delight.

What’s the point in limiting the dream to just a breath if it was only ever imaginary in the first place? Why not go all in and lose yourself in the madness you create in the late hours of your day? At least there I know we’re together. At least there we have a purpose, a reason for having been.

Otherwise - one night only serves to light a fire and watch it blaze to a temperature so hot it is doused to contain it. Then you stand and watch the embers struggle for oxygen, for life.

If only

You bring a light to my eyes when I think of you.

Yes please…

To make you feel better 😉😘

Got myself a little something the other day. 😍

“With the right music, you either forget everything or you remember everything.”

— Unknown

You were with me today at Tsunami Books in Eugene.

Spooky season

After all this time? Always.

The hardest paths often lead to the strongest versions of yourself. Keep walking, and you'll discover just how powerful you truly are.

Love

PHASES OF THE MOON art by Thiago Corrêa

A playlist that sometimes gets it just right.