Shifting coastlines mimic the fluctuating weight of time and how we fall into the sway of its tides in the meeting space of the sweet shore and swelling sea. Songless and vulnerable, its pressures creep eerily out to a seamless horizon, pulled by the tides of everyday. Any span of time is unavailing in … More Maritime
Don’t let those pernicious lilies of the valley turn your skin to plaster and break it from the inside out. Though the little, charming blossoms smell like the foggy air beside your grandmother’s walkway and the ruffled white edges are soft like blankets from home, the buds will force their roots into your head and … More to myself
Green Catacomb, flooding with tired rebirth, claims the right to honor the closed honesties of yesterday. Tendriled sojourns of flight present to the air: a sense of doubtlessness- an awakening of the fire.
The sky is a vibrant blue this morning and the northern wind brings chills and visions of our futures.
Isn’t it strange how the days walk out of our lives so quietly? They leave without the squeak of feet shifting. With the door left open for the next, each day departs with no thoughts of an unwanted intruder.
The moon is rather effervescent tonight. It shines brightly through the slit in my window, where the shades don’t quite fall to the wood frame, and onto my face in just the right way. I was up there once, looking down in wonder, suspended in the lazy atmosphere. When I could no longer take … More Moon
As this semester (and high school) ends, I’m constantly reminded that I’m walking into the unknown. It’s a very funny time in life, this transition period before college, and I feel very excited to apply my knowledge to the life after this one. Hopefully, I’ll continue to post on this blog, and I’ll continue to … More Farewell?
Careless forests in my head connect the worlds that bind me (sometimes I get lost). One is today, what it brings: my interpretation of now (sometimes I get lost). Through the trees and my thoughts, daring and swelling I find that (sometimes I get lost), There is another contrived of all my days future and … More April 22nd- with reflection
Each breath is uncharted, alone, forgotten, sent into the atmosphere without a doubt or remembrance. They are free in the new air made of pine trees and calm waters, floating into infinity one at a time, as we will be.
The house burns; it glows brightly inside your lost and lonely mind, shining with the force of the best of your old memories and your hope.