Hello friends

So if you are wondering, “Oh my word, why is she changing the theme AGAIN?!?!” this time it wasn’t on purpose. I meant to add the theme to a new blog I am hoping to start. So, hopefully, I can get it back to normal soon. So for now, please enjoy this temporary change of pace.


Feeling in: Blue

Deep, dark, mysterious blue.

It haunts us, even as we dream,

in a cycle of routine sadness that

somehow still hurts, even after

the hundredth time.

It is the last color you see before

the sky turns black.

Blue is the ocean.

It is roughly seventy-one percent

of our world, yet it 

still terrifies us.

Blue is our eternal struggle

for happiness personified.

Blue is an eye-color mutation.

Some find it vastly superior,

but it’s still a mutation,

not meant to be.

Not meant to be. 

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Feeling in: Green

Green is the color of life.

It is the leaves in the early


singing lazy lullabies as the

breeze gently kisses them.


Green is gentle, the grass, once

covered by the oppressive snow,

yet it rises up still.

It is soft between your toes as

the sun tickles your skin.

Green is what it feels like to 

be alive.


Green is murky.

It hides the corruption of

greed that sticks to the bottom

of our shoes and never seems to come


Green is indifferent. It

is the witness paid off,

a secret kept with bribes.

It doesn’t care who is hurt, it

just wants its payoff.

Green is natural, and slimy,

like a pond filled with algae.

We don’t want part of green,

but with one comes the other.

It’s a package deal,

no returns.

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Please Pardon This Interruption

Yes, I know, I am supposed to be doing a color series right now, but I have never been one to be consistent, and when inspiration comes, you don’t pass it up. So I bring to you today, “Eyelashes.” Please do enjoy. :)

I had stopped to think of

the injustice that is the

obscene length of your eyelashes

before, but I

never really regarded them

as I should have.

So when you obstructed my view

of the food on tv as my stomach

growled like something feral,

and all I could see were your eyelashes,

so beautifully outlined in the warm

living room light,

I counted each one,

a delicate wish.

Minutes pass and you are

completely oblivious to my

blatant staring,

completely oblivious to your

own complex beauty.

When you turn to look at me,

you ask if everything is okay.

Honestly, I say yes.

I just can’t believe how

easy it is to be oblivious.

Tagged , , , ,

Feeling in: Yellow

Yellow is bright.

It is the sun caressing your skin

after a long winter.

It is warm,

an inviting hug after a long


Yellow is happy.

It symbolizes peaceful times,

where love is unconditional.

It is never harsh lines, but fuzzy streaks,

lacking definition.

Yellow is soft.

It is light.

Yellow doesn’t weigh

you down, but lifts you up.

Yellow whispers soft morning

melodies in your ear.

Yellow is syrup-sweet,


Yellow is messy.

It is easily faked, and 

taken for granted in it’s 

genuine state. 

But it is not vengeful. 

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Feeling in: Red

Red is the feeling you get when you 

want to make a change.

You can no longer stand to be


There is a fire under you,

but you love the pressure to do

something good.

Red is when you do something

without thinking, it is spontaneity,

and there is no consequence you

could possibly regret. Because this

is what feels right,

deep in your soul.

It is never wrong.

Red it hot rage.

Your whole body is on fire.

You only hear blood rushing in

your ears, whispering for you to

do something rash.

But oh,  how it feels so sweet.

But yet, it has such a bitter after-taste.

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Feeling in Colors

Hi friends! So, I am going to shake it up a little bit. Normally, I just write and post whatever I am feeling at that time, but I want to do something a bit different. Instead, I am going to do a segment, or series of sorts, based around colors. It sounds boring, but I am hoping you’ll all love it! So here is the first one, which is more of an intro.



I am mourning for humanity,

and how we have allowed ourselves

to forget what it is to feel in


We are taught to suppress our

envy, because it is wrong, and

rude, but why is it wrong to want something,

and to work to get it?

We hide our sadness, because

they say it is weakness, and we mustn’t

allow ourselves to be tender.

“Other people have it much worse,”

although true, does not cure a broken


We restrain ourselves from

spontaneity, because we are afraid

we will do it wrong.

But we forget there is no right or

wrong in passion.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

Wicked Witch

I didn’t ask to be
a cliche.
A teenage poet,
struck with {enter mental disorder of
your choice},
when an unlikely boy comes to
pull her up and
teach her how to be
human again.

I never wished to be the
damsel in distress
in this twisted fairy tale,
where women are helpless
and men fight their battles for
them and are the ones to give
them purpose.

I want to rewrite my story.
I want to use my faults
as weapons.
I want to be the dragon,
or the evil stepmother of
this story,
knowing exactly what I
want and spilling blood and
casting spells to get it.

One day a man will
love me for my bloody
hands and
my stubborn love and
the fierceness in my heart.
I will not be told who to be.
I will not allow myself to be
I will be the wicked witch of
this story.
Try and stop me.

Tagged , , , ,

“Reinventing Rescue”

“Imagine this: 
Instead of waiting in her tower, Rapunzel slices off her long, golden hair with a carving knife, and then uses it to climb down to freedom. 
Just as she’s about to take the poison apple, Snow White sees the familiar wicked glow in the old lady’s eyes, and slashes the evil queen’s throat with a pair of sewing scissors. 
Cinderella refuses everything but the glass slippers from her fairy godmother, crushes her stepmother’s windpipe under her heel, and the Prince falls madly in love with the mysterious girl who dons rags and blood-stained slippers.
Imagine this: 
Persephone goes adventuring with weapons hidden under her dress. 
Persephone climbs into the gaping chasm. 
Or, Persephone uses her hands to carve a hole down to hell. 
In none of these versions is Persephone’s body violated unless she asks Hades to hold her down with his horse-whips. 
Not once does she hold out on eating the pomegranate, instead biting into it eagerly and relishing the juice running down her chin, staining it red.
In some of the stories, Hades never appears and Persephone rules the underworld with a crown of her own making.
In all of them, it is widely known that the name Persephone means Bringer of Destruction.
Imagine this:
Red Riding Hood marches from her grandmother’s house with a bloody wolf pelt. 
Medusa rights the wrongs that have been done to her.
Eurydice breaks every muscle in her arms climbing out of the land of the dead.
Imagine this:
Girls are allowed to think dark thoughts, and be dark things.
Imagine this:
Instead of the dragon, it’s the princess with claws and fiery breath
who smashes her way from the confines of her castle 
and swallows men whole.”

~Author unknown

Tagged , , , , ,

“Life is poetry.”

“Life is poetry,” she said,

“Our senses are the imagery,
painting to world for us,
yet each person sees it
That is beauty.
That one thing can be a thousand
just because we make

Our emotions make up
We compare our love, pain,
desperation, and joy to the tragically
beautiful things we surround ourselves
with, because they make us feel less,
feel put together, less

Our bodies make up the
Our hearts pound, our blood
races, our bodies sway.
Our bodies,
they are the rhythms, always
in motion, never resting because
resting is to surrender and these words

Life is poetry.”

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,