on accidentally falling in love

it is not
that i tried
(because to try
implies
an effort expelled)
to fall in love with you;
it is just that
i met you,
and my heart
could no longer beat
without doing so.

If you love two people at the same time, choose the second. Because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn’t have fallen for the second.

― Johnny Depp (via emmysafari)

pulling back the masks

i wish i could say
that i don’t remember
the before you
time in my life,
but if i did not remember,
i believe you would not
be mine.
our lives before each other
led us exactly
into each other’s arms,
and the before
detailed our reasons
why it was in
each other’s arms
we chose to stay.

There is something infantile in the presumption that somebody else has a responsibility to give your life meaning and point… The truly adult view, by contrast, is that our life is as meaningful, as full and as wonderful, as we choose to make it.

Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion (via quotes-shape-us)

my heart says GO

my heart
knows so much
and so little
at once.
do i trust
her desires,
believing that
living
is for living,
or do i stifle her
and avoid
what might be
a mistake?

missing pieces

i feel as if i was a puzzle,
completed, but then
i was shaken up,
and dislodged
from the pieces
i so long searched for.

every day since then,
a handful disappears.

i can’t decide
whether to
put together
what is left of me,
or to accept my loss
and begin anew.

doors closed

i have dreamed
of elevators
for two nights
in a row.

one night,
the cables stretched
and snapped and
left me suspended
by a thread.
the other brought me
again and again
to the wrong floor.

i’m told this means
that i am both stuck
and that i don’t know
where i’m going.

for some reason,
my dreams
keep repeating
things i already know.

He loved her, of course, but better than that, he chose her, day after day. Choice: that was the thing.

The Toughest Indian In The World (Sherman Alexie)

(Source: wordsthat-speak, via wordsthat-speak)

i am mine.
before i am ever anyone else’s.

in, nayyirah waheed (via nayyirahwaheed)

(via phoeni-xx)

abstract nouns

i do not believe
that love
is an abstract noun,
like happiness
or home or dreams.

i believe instead
that love is concrete
like you with me,
like the waves
in the sea.

creating oceans

frustration builds in me;

i am concrete evidence
of happiness
after hardship,
yet my poetry,
which had before flowed
steady like winding rivers
through the midwest,
stills like water behind a dam.

my words once created pressure
released only
in prose, yet in bliss
that pressure is lacking.

why is it the human heart
relies so heavily on unrest
as a catalyst
for creation?

my poetry,
which was once a river,
runs dry.

my banks are infiltrated
by weeds. my silt becomes sandy;
it picks up in the wind.

i wonder how long it will take
before i notice
my midwest rivers
poured into and created an ocean.

how could i forget?

i will not
become forgetful
unless something
deserves
to be forgotten;

i think
i’ll probably 
remember most
the sureness
in my voice

when i told you
i was yours. 

that has to be
worth something,
even if
i was only yours
for a short time.

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

Anaïs Nin (via thevirtuousgirl)

on getting better

i thought
maybe today
i wouldn’t cry,
that my eyes
had burned
for too long
from salt,
that i deserved
to sing along
to a happy song
on the radio,
that i might finally
be getting closer
to being okay —

and then i wept.