Postcard of the Future

When your mother handed you your postcard of the future,
what did you think?

Did you dream
of fairies from far away places,
castles...
dungeons...
and dragons.

Did you truly and deeply believe
that Prince Charming
in all his elegance
would arrive
at a moment in your life,
pick up the fragmented pieces of glass
and fallen roses
and be a living dream?

Did you set your heart upon a falling star
that whatever you wished would come true,
imagine
hope
soar
and relish
of a beautiful world you knew you would see...

Then you told this to your mother
sister, father and brother,
they stared,
you felt ashamed.

But here's a little secret I'll tell you about this game.

When we were all handed that postcard,
a small, tiny fire inside
in each and every one of us,
counted upon these little lies.

Food for Thought

Silently Calling

Each scorching word

leaves another mark on the road.

Together, we dissolve in it's silence.

Silent severity

which we are unable to break.

She brushes her fingertips

gently

and deliberately

across this trail,

until their presence...

is merely lingering. 

They say...we are fighters.

Who have conquered days

moments,

fears,

who will together rise, 

and forget the cares of the world--

but they do not know of this trail.

Words Can't Bring You Down

This is such an amazing cover of such a great song. (:

Casting Away Those Whispers

[daunting.]

They say, they said, they know, 

the words echo quietly in my head.

The musings of a fairy tale--

perhaps I once read.

It pushes, it asks, it stays

lingering, unready to leave

these voices, these fears, these questions

only once hard to perceive...

My little inner self dances 

slowly across the floor

musing over these questions,

soon enough at the door. 

 [ethereal.] 

There is something utterly magical

as I take my place on the ground--

picking apart each little star,

knowing each wish has been found.

It engulfs me in it's presence,

sings me a melodious song.

Stretches widely--broadly--

wonderfully...

assuring me that nothing will go wrong.

[beautiful.]

This picturesque portrait of a tomorrow

drawn in deep blues, lavenders, a grey.

This daunting, ethereal beautiful sky,

Enchanting the world in which I lay.

And gracefully, immaculately, perfectly,

the most crooked of stars aligned,

the voices, their whispers cast away--

under my midnight sky.

Tidbits at 10 P.M.

Right now, it is 9:21 P.M. and I am sitting on a swivel chair in front of my computer intent on writing a blog post, no matter what it'll take me. Right now, it is 9:30 and I am sitting on a beanbag in front of my computer in my pajamas and with a glass of hot chocolate by my side, strongly intent on writing something.
Ah, much better. Anyhow, after feeling incredibly guilty for not posting as regularly as I believe I promised earlier, here are just a few really random tidbits I've found through my numerous periods of wasted time (hehe just kidding ;) Enjoy! (: [whoever you may be, whether a criminal in a jail cell halfway across the world or...not :P]

Alright, so first of all, I wanted to share something sweet that I stumbled across earlier--

^ The beauty of this is not just that it made me smile, but also that there is so much more meaning behind it when you stop and think about it. Family and friends are such special things in our lives and this little story just helps illustrate how sometimes even the smallest acts can be the most special because of the effort and thought put into them. "That's the best I could do under the circumstances" <--and yet, that means so much. (:

Impressive.

True, true (;

...and that's why I read <3

Quidditch. Yes.

Hehe just had to throw that one in (;

Perspective.

Ribbons and Bows--A chord she's once known.

The chords of the past

strummed on her guitar.

Dancing, laughing, crying...

 the very start.

 The faded jeans 

worn material of which

memories and emotions embedded

quietly in each stitch. 

The falling apart novel

that lies open...

page 46 on her desk.

The pages sighs softly

happy for once to be at rest.

--

The brown leather of suitcase

now propped up with her hand

the worn blue jeans

packed in and crammed.

The crisply folded 

yet browned plane ticket

lies heavy in her pocket,

 a life lost within it.

Now those baby blue curtains

that she has grown to hate and love

pulled gracefully down 

with a simple tug...

And now as she sits

watching her childhood come to an end

she pulls that same old guitar

from underneath her bed.

4 A.M. and a Fairytale.

my little fairytale

entertains itself in me

prying.

it dances lightly and lingers

staying for a while

and then departing.

as daybreak enters

my little fairytale

seems to have 

come back.

it has fallen asleep

and yet has grown.

elaborated and enchanted itself

in my presence. 

twelve hours--

and my little fairytale has returned.

the soft wings of a tomorrow

hope for the otherwise unsure. 

One More Time

I asked her

last year 

why she stands at the corner of the street 

each morning.

Cold, hungry,

shivering.

She wouldn't quite turn towards me

but I came back again.

I asked her 

last month

why she stands at the corner of the street

each morning

hot, hungry,

scorched.

She shifted in her worn brown shoes

but wouldn't quite turn towards me.

I came back again.

I asked her

last week

why she stands at the corner of the street

each morning.

Lonely, hungry,

afraid.

She raised her head, 

drew in a breath-

--but stopped,

and wouldn't quite turn towards me. 

One more time.

I asked her 

yesterday

why she stands at the corner of the street

each morning...

she turned to me

"it's a hard life."

then smiled.

Watching the World Pass By

you know how some songs make you feel like you're in a movie?
staring out the window, raindrops falling by, watching the world.
I'm pretty sure that I just found a song like that (: Admittedly, I first heard it on Pretty Little Liars, but the beginning of the song is what I think is just absolutely beautiful.

Three States of Thoughtful

If I could stand here 

forever

and count the clouds,

I would.

And when the darkest of the dark skies

rose before me

I would stand

and watch the raindrops fall 

quietly and deliberately into my hand.

If I could sit here forever

staring out the window

waiting, watching 

for time to pass by

I would. 

And when the most precise of precise clocks

struck noon

I would sit up straight 

adjust the yellow lace curtains

wonder what comes next.

If I could lie here

forever

and dream

of my perfect place,

then I would.

And when the most beautiful of beautiful dreams

approached me

I would close my eyes

drifting slowly back to sleep.