SEEYASOON

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no such thing

no such thing as watches that tick forever

no such thing as unicorns

never seen a jackal-ope

never has my face stayed clean

losers never won the race

and  the rocking chair never stayed dark green

smiles faded 

laughs died

and when she did,

the angels cried.

'cause living isn't for the perfect, 

or the broken-hearted souls

her soft sobs broke the silence

and created black, empty, holes

that ripped through light, that tore, relentless

aware of the damage that'd been done

Give me more, sweet sorrow,

End the torment, 

because tomorrow,

sunshine breathes a last wave of heat

and pores soak up the lasting sweat

of a person who was never more 

than a never-ending bet. 

                                           

                                                    

I throw hard

If you're lucky, your reflexes will benefit you. Because I'm throwing my feelings and emotions at you, and surely, they will cut you like the broken shards from the stained glass window you broke a year ago. Give me the reassurance and facts I deserve, because I deserve more. I'm an untainted vessel that is waiting for something to fill me. The newly discovered void that is now embedded in my heart breathes audibly and growls with something like hunger. It wasn't until that day some months ago, that I realized I needed you. I expected you to be larger than you were. Up until now I thought you would satisfy my emptiness.

But I'm second guessing my choice because the food I've chosen doesn't agree with me and the key that I found lying dusty under the couch doesn't seem to fit in the lock. If, truly, I believed you, you would be mine.

Ideally: Qualities: Blue eyes. (But, maybe brown. Or, maybe green. I don't want to accidentally mark you as a bad fish.) Strong hands. Honest, always. Always honest. Unquestioning. Stalwart and unmovable before God. A friend. A counselor. Respectful. Motivated. Smiles at me with something that he doesn't recognize, but that only I can see. Is always happy to see me. Jumps at the opportunity to spend time with me. Puts me above "bro nights" and if I'm not invited, he doesn't go.

Skills: Musical (Again with the bad fish comment--Just like music and sing even if you can't, please). Can cook a mean egg. Can eat a mean banana bread. Has a great cuddling arm. Knows when to be impulsive and when to regulate himself (Is this a quality?). Will be able to fix things, or be brave enough to call a repair man. Can throw a frisbee and shoot a basketball (Can range anywhere from novice-professional). Can sew a button on pants. Can do laundry (Specifically iron button down shirts, because I'm simply nowhere close to that). Can study and pray like nobody's business. Can cut little boys' hair. Knows how to floss. Puts on sunscreen so he doesn't get skin cancer. Reminds me to put on sunscreen so I don't get skin cancer. Can drive for a long time and sing in the car. Will play games with me and not get mad when he loses but also won't let me win on purpose. Won't be mad that I don't like card games. Vaccuming up and squishing spiders.  

Unconditionally: Love me above all else but God, and respect my opinions. 

I'm not saying I deserve any part of this. But I'm trying not to give up on hope that I'm not a mangled creature that is subject to the will of any man or boy. I'm not necessarily a feminist but I'm definitely a woman and I at least deserve to be treated as such. 

Sorry about this.

Moun'ins.

Climbing an endless mountain of rocky triumph,
Step over step an eternal climb.
Without so much as a second of solace,
No turning back from the supposed struggle.
Leaning towards the living fountain,
A crater of truth in the midst of a
seemingly infinite plateau.

Grasp my hand,
pull me up.
Without you, I'm forgotten.
Without you, I'm lost.
Remember me around the bend,
don't let me fall behind.

kelpy valentine's

He stares at his feet and says,
    "I think you're great",
I'm listening, I prompt, and I am.

"You remind me of my tuna fish as soon as I open the can,
and of my mother when she is baking.
You remind me of a bruised child that needs holding,
with no shame.
You remind me of a light that never turns off no matter
how many times I hit it with a hammer
And of an ice cream flavor nobody has heard of,
or a paintbrush with too many bristles."

I'm tempted to pull the fire alarm.

"My blood rushes to my toes and I kind of feel like
I have a sprained ankle when I talk to you,
But in the good way, like when the ocean licks
your papercuts.
I'm never really sure whether you are mine or
whether you are playing a pretend game,
but either way, I'm as happy as my dad was
when I finally sold my pet rabbit on the internet."

I stare at him incredulously.

"You seem like the kind of person who would
eat the insides of oreos for me,
Or maybe I would eat them because I know
you don't like them either,
And you're kind of like an eagle who doesn't
remember whether to build his nest in a tree
or atop of an electric pole.
I'm just trying to tell you that--"

He stops, because I've kissed him.

Get ahold of yourself

I can't stand being alone with myself and my trembling, quivering, cowering heart.

A heart that eats through reason and bends around my every impulse.

I can't stand walking next to you without the warmth of your touch as a 

consistent reminder that I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe.

Please never leave.

My thoughts contend with the greater reason which is always my emotions, and 

everyone knows I was never any good at simple reasoning anyway. 

I watch your skin prickle when I touch it and when I lean against you I can feel your 

heart racing faster, faster. 

Your eyes, they say more than you could ever, and our irises converse silently, privately,

among the loud gossips in the elevator and the playwright enthusiasts.

One word, one touch, one courage, and

I'm yours.