Cosmic origins

IMG_0461.JPGThe sun and moon are a perplexing duo.

Here she was, an emblem of light and beauty—the source of all life casting herself away so the pesky moon could have his moment from time to time. Or so everyone told her.

And the moon was a headache inducing disappearing act; only showing glimpses of himself before finally uncovering his full potential once every so often. Yes, he provided a cool glow in the dark of the night, and of course there were so many clichés about the beauty of the moonlight. But that wasn’t his real source of power.  He pulled people in just as he would the tides, intoxicating everyone in his wake.

This dark nature should have turned the sun away, as it had so many people before her, but instead it encouraged her. She wanted him to shine, to sparkle just like she did each morning.

My dear, the moon isn’t taking anything from our precious sun, she is simply carrying him with her light, with her love.


Intrusive: a spoken word


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I want you to think, I want you to imagine, I want you to step into my shoes for a moment.

You had the best feeling you could ever EVER have with someone.

But you had to leave, not just for yourself but for him as well because above all else HEALTH must come before all wants and needs.

And you go to bed with guilt rising from the stomach into your  throat praying to God that you’ll wake up and he’ll still exist in the world for one more day.

You’ll never know what it feels like to truly touch him again because honey, you’re the mistake.

Because from now on you are a walking VOID of seduction with the scars of his past etched onto your skin and lingering on your lips.

The sound of your name makes him itch and scratch, pawing at the now raw skin that resides beneath his clothes.

He knows you would never hurt him and that’s what scares him the most.

Because you still care, and he doesn’t know why.

You imagine him staring up at his ceiling fan late at night asking why, why WHY, why am I still alive?

My love you fail to realize that YOU are his poison, YOU are the contamination he cannot control.

I want you to think, I want you to imagine.

The only bridge you have between you and him is someone you love like family.

But he goes to HER, she goes to HIM, he talks to HER, she talks to HIM, and you sit there and wait for an update.

You sit there and twiddle your thumbs like a scared little girl because you realize how insignificant you are.

It is not jealousy that bubbles underneath the surface of your skin.

It is the pure hatred of yourself and who you are.

How does it feel to know that the one person you care about the most can’t stand to look at you without feeling like they’re burning?

To know that whatever kindness you try to give will only make it worst.


To know that you are an INFECTION that ceases to heal itself.

My dear YOU are the problem, and I swear to GOD  you better bite down on that “I love you” unless you want him to reach for the noose.

Standing there, wide eyed and helpless, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU.

I want you to think, I want you to imagine.

I want you to step into my shoes.



Sagacious: a spoken word

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Allow me to be the first to stand and congratulate you on this award winning performance

A round of applause for convincing yourself and others alike that things do not exist merely because the words falling from your lips speak them into oblivion

And I thank you dearly for this show stopping spectacular of teaching me that pinky promises are a load of shit and that promises you make were meant to be broken

I talk myself in circles trying to figure out exactly how you pull it off, how exactly can you erase an entire quantity of time with simple commas and statements

A divine magic trick and with a wave of your precious wand you have fabricated a world where you are happy, you are without all faults

But I knew you.

Your easy smile and saunter would once make a starry eyed girl like me leap and bound for the chance to be with your sinful nature

I knew you.

I knew that I would’ve ruined every chance of happiness just to see you shine brightly and that it’s an all too familiar notion teenage girls have these days, but no one seems to notice or care to save them from an untimely demise

We watch as they throw themselves into another being, we let them ignore our warnings and pleas because we become too frustrated to understand that they are too sick to hear

That the poison of a toxic relationship will paralyze the senses.

So I sit here with bile creeping up my now resuscitated throat holding back the venomous words I know would rip apart this lovely show you’ve given the crowd

I replay all the moments between us that I thought were drenched in watercolors and the most vibrant of light and realize, it was faded.

I was fading. I have faded.

So you carry on for an encore as the crowd sits there and hungrily awaits the lies and tall tales only a true actor can weave and formulate

As they ask for more, you give and soon you will believe in your own legends and folklore

But I know you.





She sings quitely under her breath because she’s too shy to actually let him hear her voice, it’s a good thing the radio is loud. Her body relaxes against the now pulsating seat due to the powerful bass of whatever angsty song that fills the small interior of the car.

He’s watching her bop her head in time to the beat and feels a smile creeping on his face. She raises her arms up and quickly thrusts them down in an air drum solo—caught up in her dizzying world. It was refreshing for him to watch the carefree way she moved.

She glances over and notices him staring at her, she abruptly puts her arms down. A shrill giggle escapes her lips and she crinkles her nose up in embarrassment. Her gaze shifts to look at her lap, fingers dancing together in a flustered manner.

But he doesn’t stop staring, his smile never falters. He looks out into the distance and let’s out a gentle sigh while they let the music surround them.

She breaks the silence with another giggle, he looks down at her and feels a warm sensation bubbling in his chest. She finally glances over at him and his heart does jumping jacks at the sight of those warm browns.

“I’m such a dork” she says with a roll of her eyes.

He doesn’t respond, instead he moves a strand of hair that’s lazily made its way across her face. She smiles at the gesture but playfully shoves his hand away.

“I don’t know how you put up with me” she mumbles before turning to look out her window. He grabs her chin ever so sligtly and turns her back to face him. She’s now hyper aware of how close their bodies seem to be and wonders if it was always like this.

Without a single word he presses his lips against hers softly and she feels like she’s on fire. He pulls away, she’s a little out of breath.

“Because you’re mine.”


I often think about how happy I was in this little snapshot of our relationship, but also how it doesn’t really show the full picture of what was taking place within me—the turmoil in my heart. Life is funny that way. 






And yet here I find myself trying to formulate a string of words that can explain a fraction of what I’m starting to feel again. My hands are restless as if they have a mind of their own and I know that I’ll start rambling on about trivial things the minute I finally get to hold you. My mind seems to go light years ahead of our time and I’m planning for a future with you that may cease to exist but I’ll never know–because looking at you cuts off my peripheral vision and maybe that’s okay. For the first time I am allowing myself to feel something for someone other than spite and I want nothing more than to protect you from the things that go bump in the night. If I could pick up the paintbrush and create a water colored canvas of a new world with you and I and no pain, I would. But just as much as I want to protect you, can you shelter me? It’s a question that I’ve been searching through others to find and my friend, my body count has seemed to have piled on–yet I have been left for dead. With you, I can safely say the answer to my question is yes. The idea of infatuation and love has always been silly to me, but with you it has become a possibility–and I’m sorry I ramble on about the sky and how small we are compared to our universe…these things keep me sane. I usually use my words to combat the feelings that inch their way up my neck and paw at my bare skin, but now standing here in your presence I am finally speechless. So I am terribly sorry for this rambling, but how can you say one thing to a person that has provided so much in so little time? How can I formulate a string of words that truly conveys how I feel in this moment looking at you from across this room? 


This is how I’m feeling at the moment, and I mean every word.




I could feel the bile rising in my throat, my vision was becoming blurry and my jaw ached from clenching it so hard. The bag containing our takeout laid by my feet with its’ contents spilled about; you couldn’t see me–and maybe that was a good thing. You didn’t see the way my body shook as I tried to hold back the sobs threatening to escape their confines; you were too busy inhaling the person sprawled across your living room couch.

I watched you graze your fingertips over their exposed skin, I watched them nip at your neck and your eyes roll back into your skull with pleasure washing over your face. I stood there outside your house watching my soul shatter into a million pieces. I was paralyzed with so many emotions that I couldn’t even make sense of, that is until you pulled away from them and saw me.

You frowned ever so slightly before untangling yourself from the couch and moving towards the window, I turned and ran.

I heard the window slide open  behind me and the way you yelled my name stabbed me in the chest. With each leap I took I allowed the tears to flow from my eyes–this pain urged me to run faster–to forget that you never even knew how much I had wanted to love you.



We tend to think of ourselves more important than we really are

In your eyes, I was a confidant 

A lifelong friend 

At one point, a drunken mistake 

In my eyes, I was your soulmate 

You were my moon, my stars, and so much more 

We tend to think of ourselves more important than we really are


I know what you’re thinking, what the actual hell was this chapter??? Well, keep in mind that I said this story is just snapshots of these two peoples lives–it may not follow a linear path. This whole thing could be out of order, that’s all up to the reader’s interpretation. I will say that there are still a lot more chapters in this story–this is not the end…or is it? It was definitely a little bit harder to write this chapter considering how sweet the other three are. Also don’t listen to Skinny Love while reading this because I just bawled my eyes out. Happy reading kiddos!

-One girl



I called your name at least 10 times, poking your arm with each annoying nickname I could think of–but you simply brushed me off and continued to read. The sound of rustling papers mixed with the sour smell of dusty shelves that engulfed the library; you were my only source of entertainment it seemed.

I wanted to go, I tried to give you some lame excuse but my words trailed off as your eyes reluctantly left the page to meet my own. I winced slightly at the tone of your voice when you said my name, it sounded far away–pleading almost. My gaze softened slightly and I let out a deep breath, I would stay. Immediately your expression brightened–my personal sunshine. I reached for my sketchbook, a sigh of relief leaving my lips the minute my fingertips traced the worn leather; I had nothing better to do, so why not draw my muse–you?

I moved with caution, careful not to draw your attention to me–you hated when i drew you; but how could I not? Your entire being seemed to have been hand-crafted from the purest things on earth. I glanced from you to my paper, my pencil moving lightly to capture your image on the canvas; I became so heavily engrossed in my little project that I didn’t even notice you staring at me. When I looked up momentarily I jumped at the sight, you frowned and shook your head with amusement dancing in your eyes.

You laughed and asked if I had been drawing you, I felt my face heat up and I scrambled to close the book. Explanations and protests began to spew out of me like word vomit, the upheaval stopped when you gently tugged the book from my grasp; I tried to stop you from looking but you simply ignored me. I watched as you lazily flipped through the pages, smiling slightly at my doodles; you paused momentarily on one page–I cringed. You had found my sketches of you, all the charcoal outlines messily displayed before your eyes. I wanted to say something but coherent sentences weren’t coming out, you handed the book back to me without a word.

I waited for a response–maybe even feedback–but you said nothing. You went back to your reading, the silence radiating around us. The bell rang, ending our free period. I hastily grabbed my bag and stood, wanting to escape confrontation. You stepped into my path and I looked up at you, waiting. You leaned in and lightly kissed my forehead, lingering there for a moment. As you pulled away you mumbled “Those drawings were beautiful”. You left before I could even comprehend the words.


And every time I look at you my hands become restless 

Searching for something to grasp on 

I put you on paper so that I can keep you 

So that I can finally touch you 

The same way you touched me


Hello my babes another EXODUS post!! I haven’t posted because honestly I didn’t know what to type, writer’s block ya feel? Anyway I’ll try to update the story more later–I’m thinking that I’ll just continue it here and do a few normal posts for every two chapters I post. Sound good? I hope that you’re doing OK, remember to stay hydrated and tell yourself that you love you. (I’m serious). Bye Bye for now!!

one girl 

p.s What do you call a pig that does karate?  A PORKCHOP (: