taken from Pinterest – origin not known

what courses through the veins now is dark and cold
love is meant to keep you warm or so I’ve been told

valves clog with heartbreak that impedes the flow
love wilts in poisoned blood with no room to grow

offer a piece of it and they make sure to bleed you dry
love is meant to be the answer so it doesn’t understand why

a kamikaze organ that burns in the rubble of the lies
love has had its fill of rabid beasts in sheep’s disguise

inside this ribbed cage lies the vessel of a savage
love turned impenetrable – a fortress impossible to ravage

she is still breathing but this heart is no longer beating
love should live here now but it’s time spent was fleeting

alpha and omega.

Image from http://www.theapricity.com 


I followed your trail – to hunt you down – for as long as I could.
I no longer remember the scent of your fur or the taste of you.

I felt happiness when my head nuzzled in the crook of your neck.
I felt safe when your paws swallowed mine as they intertwined.
These were stolen moments spent peacefully in the warmest den.
Fearless moments – where we uncovered the true animals within.
But the morning sun would shine and shed light on your darkness.
It burned away the truth – words reduced to ashes in your mouth.
Howls sung in the night couldn’t pierce the silence of our days.

Instinct commanded you to protect yourself – the man-made image.
There is only ever fight or flight and you chose to flee – far and fast.
Deafening was the sound of your paws crunching through the snow.
Frozen was the blood inside my savage heart from the ice in yours.
Angry eyes burning – I turned to match stride – in opposite direction.
Two lone wolves: a story of the alpha and omega – beginning and end.

old fashioned.

Photograph courtesy of theodysseyonline.com

I’m going to get all Carrie Bradshaw with this one and talk about relationships and love in 2016. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t trapped in a perpetual state of horror and confusion on most days. I am supposed to be lumped into the group of people called ‘millennials’. The ominous ‘they’ define a millennial as someone 18 to 33 years old, born between 1981 and 1996. I don’t think I belong there. My age says I do, but my mind, my soul and my heart tell me otherwise. I don’t agree with this millennial world of life and love. It’s borderline madness.

I don’t understand the way both men and women treat relationships today, whether it’s familial, friendship, or intimate. It astounds me. I see people force relationships for the sake of being in one. I see people stay in relationships for a number of reasons other than love. I see people hang on to toxic relationships that no longer serve them. I see people pretend to be who they are not. I see people who are afraid: afraid of who they are, afraid of love, afraid to let people in, and afraid of what people think.

I see relationships of all kinds splattered over social media because there exists this need for constant connection and validation. It has invaded our lives in such a perverse way that we are compelled to highlight each and every moment we live. We also feel this pull to check in with everyone else’s lives, not just every once in awhile, but constantly from dusk to dawn. I will admit, I am guilty of this on both ends of the spectrum. It annoys the fuck out of me and it makes me want to punch myself in the face.

Instead of a phone call, we get a Facebook message or a Snapchat. We are now forced to get to know people not face to face, but through a phone or computer screen, through typed words and 10 second images or videos. We have to play guessing games about how things really are. Feelings are mostly expressed through Wi-Fi, if they are even expressed at all. We no longer use all of our senses to experience getting to know someone. There exists this disturbing element of avoidance and detachment. There are things called ghosting, situationships, and now even ‘passive’ ghosting. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? Does anyone else find this ridiculous?

There’s no need to “catch-up” because we could just tap a social media app and see what you’ve been up to just by scrolling. True lines of communication are down. We’re forced to read into texts, snapchats, and messages. It’s as if face-to-face interactions are unwanted. Face-to-face means potentially dealing with confrontation, emotions, feelings, truth, eye contact, body language, our physical reactions to people, and oh my god… WORDS SPOKEN ALOUD to someone’s -FACE- (the horror!) Let’s just avoid all of that instead.

We’ve become too dependent on using social media to interact with one another. This keeps people at arm’s length. We only let people see what we want them see, let them in as far as we want them to go. God forbid someone sees the real you, in your raw and purest form, minus the filter. They might just run for the hills and never look back. Because aside from the highlight reels of your life that you choose to post or send, someone might think you’re boring, or stupid, or weird, or fucked up, or lazy, or crazy, or whatever. Even worse, they might end up liking you or loving you for the real, actual you. Those fools.

Is there something wrong with me? Because everything that most people seem to be running from is what I crave. I look for the in-between – – all the things and thoughts you don’t show to everyone else. I want your flaws, I want your scars, I want your quirky and your weird. I want your stories, your dreams, your secrets and your nightmares. I want what you look like when no one is looking. I want to be with you when you do the things and say the things that you might not dare to do or say on social media. Give me the good, the bad, and the ugly. Give me the boring, the lackluster. I want it all, true to self.

Tell me how it really is. Tell me how you really feel. Let me like you or love you for who you are, the whole of you. Because this is how you truly know someone. This is how you understand and come to fit with another person. If it works, it has to work based on the truth, otherwise you’re selling yourself to people in a bullshit smeared box of false advertisement. People like you not for who you really are, but for everything you want them to like. Which not only hurts them, but it hurts you too. It’s such a waste of their time and yours. If your honesty, your weird, your truth, is something someone can’t handle as a friend or a lover, then why do they exist in your life at all?

As we get older, we have to learn something. Sometimes, we learn it the hard way. We have to learn that not everyone is meant to stay in our lives, no matter how long they’ve been there. It’s about quality, not quantity. Sometimes, people don’t fit. And that’s okay. It’s better to be yourself. Be happy as the real you. And let others be happy as the real them. Stop molding yourself to fit where you don’t belong and stop forcing people to change to try and fit into your life. We should only be and stay in each other’s lives as ourselves. Having to force something never really works does it? It’s choosing when to let go and when to hold on. It’s facing and walking that fine line between committing to put the work in or walking away knowing it’s not meant to be. But if you choose commitment, you have to go all in or you might as well let them go.

Love comes from within. You have to love yourself first. You can’t use relationships with other people as a security blanket. You can’t use the love of other people to fill your self-love deficit. It’s okay to be alone.


It’s okay to leave relationships if you’re not happy, no matter how long you’ve been in them. It’s okay to continue to be alone even if you desperately want to find love because you’ve been alone for so long. Love doesn’t come by force or out of desperation. It’s okay to not be married by a certain age, or not to have kids by this age, or to live life differently than your friends or family. If you are happy, if the person and people you choose to spend this life with are happy, then that is all that matters. Fuck everyone else. Honestly. Stop half-assing life. Stop half-assing love. If it’s worth it, it’s worth it. If not, go find your happiness and don’t apologize for anything or anyone that might stand in the way of it.

I’m not afraid to be alone. I enjoy my own company, more so maybe than most. People think that’s weird. I’m also not afraid to tell people I care about them. People think that’s weird too. Admitting feelings for people is a foreign concept. It’s better to pretend feelings don’t exist at all because then you never have to be embarrassed that you got shot down or that someone doesn’t care about you in equal measure. It’s cool to care less. I think that’s a load of bullshit.

Never be afraid to tell the truth about your feelings for people, especially if they are good. The world has enough hate and enough people hiding inside their self-made turtle shells shutting out truth, love, and whatever else. Seeing people happy and smiling and laughing, in part, because you love them and you care about them in the purest way possible without expecting anything in return is the best feeling in the world.

I am only afraid of one thing: settling. Settling in life and settling in love. For a while now, I’ve been pretty torn up, thinking that what I am looking for in this life doesn’t exist anymore. That’s not true. We need to learn to wait. Be patient.

Bouncing from relationship to relationship doesn’t give you time to discover yourself. Staying in an unfulfilling relationship out of fear of never finding someone that will truly make you happy is stupid. I’m sorry. It just is. It is also really fucking stupid to deny yourself true love because of fear.

If you find yourself alone, just keep working on you. Keep at that self-love. Keep growing. Love is everywhere. It doesn’t have to be defined by one singular person. If you don’t feel whole all by yourself, then that means you’ve still got work to do. Stop searching for your “other half” or for people to fill a void. You need to be whole as you stand alone. You need to fill the void by yourself.

And for fuck’s sake, if you find love, or feel love, and you think you might be ready, let it in god damnit. It might scare the shit out of you, you might not fully understand what’s happening, but just go with it. Stop rejecting it, stop denying it. Don’t be afraid. You never know what might happen if you put your walls down, especially if you’ve found the right one. Believe me, you’ll just know.

I see some incredible relationships between people out there. Some of my very good friends are in these bad ass relationships right now. Some are old, some are new. But these are the relationships that keep my hope alive. They keep me patient. They keep me believing. Most importantly, they stop me from second guessing that the kind of love I’m looking for doesn’t exist anymore. Because it does.

There is a key to love in the 21st century.

I believe this key is keeping love old fashioned. In every sense other than getting married and having kids by age 23. These couples stay old fashioned.

They have true communication: a relationship where anything and everything can be discussed without fear. There is trust: trust that you can be your true self and trust that love is enough. And also, trust that if love ever falls away, that you will not stay. You will be brave enough to say it out loud and leave before infidelity, chronic unhappiness, resentment, or the feeling of settling comes creeping in. Trust that if you are there and you are in love, there is no room for anyone or anything else.

They have love based on friendship. Who they are with happens to be their best friend. They can walk through hell and back and they will still be there. There’s a loyalty and camaraderie and a kinship forged between the two of them. They have an understanding. These couples have found their “person”.

They maintain the ability to be separate from one another. They are two individuals who have forged a life together, yet remain separate entities. Negative co-dependency doesn’t exist between them. They have a love built from self-love. They spend time together but they spend time apart. They have things they love without the other person. They remain an “I” instead of melting into this “we” insanity.

Most importantly, these couples are removed from social media. They still value time spent with one another in private. They are not compelled to snapchat, status update, or upload photos galore. Sometimes, most times, they disappear together without any of us knowing what the fuck they are doing. They could be doing absolutely nothing or boarding a plane to France. We wouldn’t know until after the fact, if at all. Value is placed on the moments no one knows about.

So what if it’s talking in bed for hours about nothing at all, or taking a spontaneous adventure? They understand these are moments not always meant to be shared. Because honestly, who should give a shit other than you two? These are the couples that don’t find themselves reaching for their phone when they’re together – whether it’s to update the world about what they’re doing or to stay updated on other people’s worlds. When they’re together, no one else’s status update really matters. Notifications can wait for another time.

Some of the best moments of my life have no trace. I was too busy having fun and being truly happy and satisfied in the moment I was in to reach for my phone to record it. And I way too busy to check in on other people and see what they were up to. If I’m doing something I truly enjoy or I am with someone whose company I love, or better yet, both of those things combined, I forget I have a phone at all. It goes on silent and disappears to the bottom of my purse.

What do I want?

I want to hear your voice. I want to see your face so I can mentally record the lines of your smile and the sound of your laugh. I want to be together without the glow of a cell phone lighting up every five seconds. I want to exist with you in a space where a cell phone is irrelevant. I want your eyes on mine and mine on yours. I want to be present in the moment we’re in – together.

I want to care less about other people and care even less if they care about me, or us. I want you to let go and be you. I want to be me. I want to get to know you, really and truly know you, for all that you are and all that you want to be. I want you to trust me. I want to trust you.

I want to talk a lot sometimes, and at other times, be comfortable in complete silence. I want us to be wild and weird, to be quiet and boring, and to love and live without fear.

I want to be genuine with you. I want be loved for all that I am. I want to love you for all that you are. And I want to give zero fucks if anybody else even knows about it.

I want to stay old fashioned.



The White Rabbit found on Polyvore


You are the dark alley way I shouldn’t roam.

You are the drug that overdoses, mouth of foam.

You are the final shot of whiskey – drink too much.

You are the burning stove – red hot to touch.

You are the violent current that takes me under.

You are the heathen who knows pillage and plunder.

You are the venomous snake with the deadly bite.

You are the bully dog born and bred only to fight.

It’s chasing the rabbit, but forever in a dream.

It’s a mouth sewn shut, sealing off the scream.

It’s hugging a porcupine, face full of quills.

It’s losing my mind, swallowing your pills.

It’s trying to hold a hand that holds a knife.

It’s your weight on this chest that crushes my life.

It’s running as fast as I can but in circle formation.

It’s waiting for a train that has long left the station.

You can starve her heart and you can cage her mind,

she’ll set herself free with time.

You will search but never find,

another one of her kind.

This is a lionheart that roars louder from cruelty.

A lone wolf again who no longer swears fealty.

night prowls.

darren pearson
Photographer – Darren Pearson

Sinks her teeth straight into your flesh
She knows the animal inside of you best

Drags her claws deep across your back
She feeds your soul all that it lacks

Wild eyes pierce through the dark
The beast chooses where to leave her mark

Thumps beat inside chests – war drums in tune
Feral thoughts bloom like wildflowers in June

Twist, turn and pull fistfuls of fur
Lions with manes and panthers that purr

The air is stifling and thick with rage
Time to explode the heart from its cage

These animals – they stay safely tucked away
Until the lights go out and it’s time to play

Tangled up limbs and the fiercest of howls
This is what happens when the night prowls

the feast.


Image from besketchy.com
Image from besketchy.com

I don’t desire the buttoned down business bravado at 2:00 PM.

I crave the crawling creature that crumbles at 2:00 AM.

I don’t long for eternal strolls in the sunshine of spotless minds like other girls.

I pray for a slow dance with the devil as we engulf these tired hearts in flames.

Drag me down to hell where you dwell in the darkness of your mind.

I lust for the imperfections – the markers of truth.

I yearn to trace the lines of your scars with my sketchbook fingertips.

I will sit with you at the forsaken table,

indulge on your insecurities.

I will take second helpings,

feast on your flaws.

To quench this insatiable thirst,

pour your past unto me.

I shall eat until I am full.

I shall drink until I am drunk.

And I shall love you still.

blood teeth.

Photo taken from http://www.adn.com/
       Photo taken from http://www.adn.com/

I am the beast, a wild wolf

Steel trap jaw and mighty paws

I refuse to be a carcass

Bleached bones among white stones

I starve protecting a pack of thieves

Stay, and die upon these fallen leaves

Kick dirt in the air, raise hair on the neck

Shred throats for mercy, they bleed out among the regret

I am the beast, a wild wolf

Piercing eyes – Sheep’s disguise

I refuse to be a carcass

Predator’s trick – Vulture’s toothpick

Twitch of the ear and the journey starts

You follow your head, abandon the heart

In solitude is the thrill of the fight

Ragged soul, you rage, hunt down the night

Paws pound the ground.

You escape,

escape without a sound.

Teeth and fur,

nothing more to give.

A rabid will to live.

The blood runs red.

The blood runs red.

landfill heart.

Photo courtesy of lilyonthedustbin.com

My words

Impenetrable to the unfeeling

Lay to waste

Within the landfill heart

Where things go to rot.

My hands

Empty to the nothing

Grip the rope

Bound to the landfill heart

Where things cling for life.

My ears

Hear nothing of sentiment

Lost in translation

To the landfill heart

Where things drown in silence.

My love

Sinks into the void

Leaves me senseless

Craving the landfill heart

Where things suspend in darkness.

My soul

Insists to choose reality

Abandons me here

Inside the landfill heart

Where things decompose in agony.

love too hard.

The-trouble-is-you-think-you (2)
photo credit unknown.

“I have time.”

We all think it.

I’ll start this tomorrow. I’ll be ready next month. I swear, this new year is the one where I will start that book, learn a new language, travel the world, move to a new place, chase my passion, fall in love, leave the job I hate, stop settling, work on myself, grab life by the balls.

You may be young, but that doesn’t guarantee an infinite amount of time to be alive. The truth is, your life can end at any moment. People don’t like to think about that.


Because it’s fucking scary.

But I think about it.

I think about it every god damn day.

When I think about time..

I think about dreams, about me, about love.

Love is really important to me. Not just the love of a person, but the love of places, things, passions, words, dreams, conversations, and most of all, life. I want the time to get lost in everything I love, including myself. And it all comes down to time. How much time do I have? I don’t really know. And I won’t find out until it’s too late. So, I want to live like I might not have a lot of time.

Just in case.

Dreams are what I want to follow. What are they? Where should they take me? Am I chasing them or running from them? Am I doing things that make me happy? If I am not, what the fuck am I doing then?

Wasting precious time?

Things happened. Okay, well, a lot of shit happened that halted, plateaued, and sometimes, outright crushed my plans. Some of these things were beyond my control, some things weren’t. But either way, I’m done using my time thinking about them. It’s time to let go. It’s time to move on. Things are going to keep happening that I can’t stop, but I can’t let that stop me.

I don’t want to die drowning, choking, sinking, suffocating.

When I go, I want to be full speed,

gunning it off a cliff face,

Thelma and Louise style.

Me, myself, and I. I want to use time to find the parts of me I don’t already know. I want time to bring light to the shady parts. I want time to fix the broken and time to spread my wings. I want time to love the dusty things on old, dark shelves. Am I letting go of the things that no longer serve me? Am I letting go of the people who damage me? Am I releasing the negative in order to grab a hold of the good things? Am I not feeling sorry for doing that? Am I changing what I can and accepting the things I can’t? Can I look in the mirror and tell myself…

you are everything you need,

you are whole all by yourself.

Most of all though, I think about time when it comes to love. This is the hardest one to face. You wonder how much was wasted, how much love was abused, how much love was taken for granted by someone who didn’t deserve it? I never intended to settle. And even though time waits for no one, I still don’t intend to settle. Because the kind of love I’m looking for, despite popular belief, I know, I fucking know, exists out there somewhere.

When I love, I tend to see all that you are, even when you don’t really see it yourself, and love each and every part of who and what makes you. The same goes for when I love a thing. I tend to immerse myself in it. I want to learn every angle, every piece of the story, the history, all there is to know so I can love it truly, completely.

It’s usually all in or all out with me. When I think about time, I never think about wasting it on the mediocre. There are so many things in this life that are mediocre. Love should never, not fucking ever, be one of them.

So I say what I feel, and then I say a little more. Most of the time I say too much. But I figure, will I regret telling someone I love them, someone I miss them, someone that I appreciate their existence, showing them how much I care?


I am never sorry for how much I love.

You shouldn’t be either.

And if some asshole takes it for granted or makes you feel bad for loving them too much or too hard, then they don’t deserve it.

Don’t ever water down the way you feel.

Love is an oil painting..

thick and messy,

taking time to dry into the masterpiece it’s meant to be.

Love is not a fucking watercolor.

I say, if you have a choice, always choose to love too much. Because when you let the right ones in, it’s worth every ounce of it.

Some might say I love too hard. But I hope someday I find someone who won’t be afraid of how much I love. They won’t want to stand on the shore with their toes in the sand; they’ll grab my hand and go diving into the deep with me.

There will be someone who can be honest, who can make me believe in trusting someone without a doubt. Someone who is consistent, someone who communicates, someone who follows through, someone who is faithful, someone who believes in keeping some things to ourselves, someone who appreciates the little things, someone who wants to talk about nothing at all, and then everything at once, staying kids at heart, staying up all night underneath a bedfort of sheets and pillows, someone who dances in the rain, someone who believes romance is something two people work at and work towards and work on every single day, to hold onto the love you find in stories.

But until then, there is one important lesson I’ve been learning this past year..

to fall in love with yourself while you wait patiently.

I want to love myself so that someone else can love the best and truest version of me. And in these moments of in-between, no matter how long they last, I will not be wasting any more time. That, I can assure you.

slow dance.

Image taken from Tumblr. Photography credit unknown.

you’ll set fire to this room,
with a slow dance made for two.
an ocean of faces in the crowd,
but all he sees is you.

you’re in the middle of an alleyway,
the summer rain starts pouring down.
he pulls you close, spins you ’round,
love more colossal than this town.

your favorite tune blares on the radio,
as you Sunday drive through the streets.
he pulls over, cranks the windows down,
just to sweep you off your feet.

it’s a song that plays in the distance,
it’s a song that plays in your mind,
it’s a song written gracefully in tandem,
with an end you hope never to find.