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You are a doll and you are pretty, desirable even, like a little baby, almost as soft as her skin and as frail as her quiet fascination for the world. But there is something that you lack. Something I know nothing about, because otherwise I would really start to hate you ( Read more... )

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I own a bed I cannot fall asleep in. Sometimes at night my heart makes music. It can grow strings and keys, even its own hands to play with them. In the morning my heart is awake before I am. I think it even travels to a place where there is only nighttime.

(I loved you in the morning, before the sun would come. You were the dawn to me. I loved ( Read more... )

September 9, 2011 ( Read more... )

Rainy day. My days are like this now. Empty and cold, passing by with heavy breathing in and out of empty lungs. Empty is better than dirty wisps of creamy smoke, people say. People are fairly mistaken sometimes. People hate other people. Yet we continue to stumble upon the same lonely paths, the same daily frustrations. But that is what we seek. ( Read more... )

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I have run out of purple balloons, I have run out of patience and forgiveness for the woman I have been taught to call a “mother”. But the truth is I have never had a mother by soul, only a person who, like a name, had to be referred as one ( Read more... )

The worst things in life come free to us.

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Mothers no longer know what is right for her children once they know of the opposite.

My mom is a great mom. To state the unmagical fact, she has flaws. As do I. I have arrived at a point (for quite some time now, actually) where I can no longer linger in the same lair as she ( Read more... )