”His breath got taken away while I couldn’t breathe at all and he sank into me with every contact of skin to skin. Even if just a finger first start to my shoulder, it’s not just that he himself was drawn in, but he couldn’t not melt into me. So much that he had to let my body somehow become a part of his. Our hair was two different completely different, but tangled together, the strands simply appeared to be made from the same beautiful being. My heart just beat out of my fucking chest and he would seemingly try to touch his to mine, like they did not synchronize or even communicate only by sound. The two just met as old friends who’d become strangers, and spoke at the same time but still understood one another though our minds had just been introduced.” ~ Megan Chruszczyk
I could hold as many grudges as I want with incredibly good reason, but then how in the world would I have any room to hold on to the wonderful things?
The look in your eyes says marvelous things, but then your actions speak some sort of foreign language
And your aura… it is like shaky hands
Just let me hold them tightly so I can reassure you that time is of the essence, yes, but so is taking life moment by every miniscule to grand moment
I am miss black lung and buzzing head
Miss enigmatic open book and big broken heart
Miss captivating eyes and busted sense of self
I may be nearly blind, but I see clearly in hindsight
And I don’t need 20/20 vision to see right into your soul
Don’t even waste your time on underestimating the flames of a quiet fire, because, one day, that spark from my touch will light up your life
I have scorched earth in my luminescent blue and green eyes but I have a soft spot for boys with a warm gaze who taste like cigarettes and don’t ask me to let them love me
I’m the road less traveled by that people give up on because the beaten path ends
And they see me as a dead end
But if only they’d be willing to push past the branches and brave through the the thorns
Not every rose has its thorns
But through the broken branches and hidden snake holes is the place unable to comprehend yet to the open minded but unprepared
The place where you are safe to scream and make a fool of yourself
The place where the beauty hurts
Where love never had to be discovered but was already there
A crumbled wall surrounds the seemingly endless perimeter
Making stepping stones to higher places and understanding
It’s nice to have someone who makes it all go away
But when it’s 2a.m. and that person is asleep in their own bed, the moon likes to shine into your room and remind you that it’s all still there waiting
Without him right next to me to protect me, this spotlight will not hesitate to keep me awake and drive me insane
The best way that I can tell you my predicament is to tell it like I feel it:
I was in love with the moon
I met someone who told me that it was best to embrace it
He taught me all sorts of things about the night and the moon and spiritual things
The cooling that it whispered through the air in the night gave me comfort and made me feel that I could finally breathe
I embraced the illumination on my skin like you’d embrace your friend’s hand on your shoulder
I looked forward to its rising
I enjoyed the white glow throughout my bedroom, throughout the town
The peace that it brought…
But then the night turned me into someone self destructive; the peace morphed into loneliness
And I began to get upset with any sort of cold because my heart became selfish in wanting to be the only one to bring that chill
I dreaded the moon at its strongest moments, but it was just as dangerous for it to disappear for a little during the those early morning hours
The lunar beauty ripped the strings out of my hands and took control of my every thought and emotion
And to be honest, I don’t know how to fight this one back
I am a prisoner of beauty
I am a confused soul
Human beings are like trees
Some people are seasonal
You need to shed parts of you completely to get down to your soul
As twisted or split that it may be
It’s still haunting and damn beautiful
The more branches you have, the more intriguing
It’s okay to branch out, grow thoughts on thoughts on thoughts
The fuller you will be
The more in awe people will be to look at you
Don’t worry about seasons changing, it’s necessary to lose pieces of you
Sometimes you need to be bare for a while
The natural beauty of every part of you is the most daunting and sublime thing people are you could ever witness
Nothing is ever black and white, sweetie. If you take a closer look, it’s always grey. Always.
But sometimes you have to go either black or white. Yes or no. It’s just necessary to move forward.
And we hear a lot about black and white, but what about colors? Are those not the wonderful details of life?
Is he your blues and reds and is she your pinks and yellows?
Are they your greens and oranges?
And, goodness, what about your purples?
Do they stay inside the lines or are there even any lines?
Is it splatter painted or wildly stroked across the canvas of your soul?
Oh, darling, do you even notice their vibrancy and wonderment?
Do they leave behind their traces with colored hand prints or their signatures in calligraphy?
Tell me that the idea of this excites you as if you’re a small child again who is tugging on your parent’s arm like you’ve just found the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen
This summer has had the highs and lows of an EKG of a heart experiencing an adrenaline rush
If a spark is what you’re waiting for, do you mind if I strike the match?
If you think that’ll make us explode, I’ll stand by the dynamite
You can call me crazy, but my brain doesn’t recognize extremities
All of our conversations are intelligent even when we’re clueless because small talk is a foreign language to us, and we’re not bilingual
Though we can be redundant
But I stopped playing music at sunrise because I’d rather hear the birds sing
I’m starting to make sure that I rid myself of impurities because I want to be able to say “I’m fine” and mean it
When people ask me why I’m interested in psychology, I can’t help but sum it up by saying “the mind is such a beautifully terrifyingly mysterious thing” and I feel like it’s the 8th sin to waste it
I remember a conversation that I had with someone which resulted in them calling me “intriguing”
Intriguing… that’s the biggest compliment I could ever receive and it still puts me at a loss for any other words besides “thank you”
And after explaining why I never reveal the name of the person that I’m in love with to anyone who wasn’t there to witness the story from the beginning, I was thanked
Not for opening up to them but for letting them be able to “witness something so beautiful”
I’ve gotten to meet many people that I’ll never forget, even if I never see them again
I experienced things that finally make my life something to ask about
Staying up past 2a.m. was on repeat like a broken record, and some nights I would’ve been content with smashing it
But it made me realize that some people only ask questions in their sleep
And that swype never lets me use he word “love” on the first try
And that treating everything as a lesson can get to my head sometimes
I feel like when you get to know me, I’m either one of the strangest people you’ll ever meet or one of the most interesting
I also came to the conclusion, after pondering whether people never change or if they are always changing, that people only change if they learn from what they’ve done