Water.

You take me out just to break me in,

but your folly is that you can see the end.

Shocked me like wave, it tore down all my shame

but it came back to haunt me anyways.

You follow me around like smoke after flames,
One thought collapses while another relapses,
and I am getting better at dodging hearts,
so I don't have to restart.

These waves consume the breath left in me,
cause these lungs are too filled to breath so freely.
You walked right through, these waves that consume,
and breathed living life back in me.

I swam alongside you, to try and hide from you,
but you have walked these waters before,
and have seen the swaying storms.
So I swam behind you instead,
and surrendered my struggling sight.

Surrendering was the best thing I could have done.

-M

Snowballs.

I walk outside and find icicles forming, hanging on by the breeze of 30 degree weather, while the barren trees bow like princes in the middle east. There are many instantaneous thoughts that occur within the span of 20 minute walk, up and down these exhausted trails trying to find some relief from these fears of mine. My beliefs build like sand dunes during hurricane season and I can't seem to let the rushing waters in. I could built a fort in the middle of the mountain and throw leaves in a fire and watch them crackle like confetti but they would just blow away. You throw your jokes around like I throw myself down, cause making me feel stupid gives you control, but these trails I have never walked before. You care enough about me to want to walk ahead of me but your direction is stained from your lack of highs and the your resistance of no's, so don't think for a second I would follow you into the dark. Your truthful signs light your path to understanding but darling you hold me back from ever being able to change the light bulbs. I can't stop dropping myself on and off from you, just stop taking back what you say, cause I will run, straight into the snowy mountains where everything will snowball right back to you.

-M

Seams.

 This pattern has stitching that many can't sew,
it feeds on decrepit threads that are scattered like crows.
The edges are burned from ancient desires,
and all that remains are the ashes of liars.

It stretches you out to challenge your dreams,
while picking at details that lay in your seams.
One needle runs circles all in the fabric,
the other sporadic with all its safe antics.

As the design starts to unravel,
my heart is spreads gravel,
to make it harder for you to dabble in,
cause' these needles are picking away at my skin.

-M

92.

You sucked me dry of all my highs and sank me softly to the ground, where all my fates collide. My blood is young, But my these eyes are aged and have seen some heartache, so stop bracing me for a fall that has no break, isn't this all just a game anyways?

Your dreams are made, mine are still forgiving so I hope and I pray and I hope that somehow yours will align with mine. But I am young, how could You let me forget, I don't know what life is about, why don't you look at your own heart before you start throwing darts. You older now and just as lost, I found mine the day I gave it up. Your easier read than done and I am still trying not to get bored from reading the same book twice.

-M

Floating.

I find myself diving into a pool of uncertainty. My muscles ache as my backstroke breaks into just a stroke and my arms collide with the side to find some relief. Sometimes floating is alright, it is a relief from the consant treading to keep yourself afloat from all the water that would drown you, but at least when your drowning you see more clearly. You trust the water enough to let it hold you, let it sit under you and take you upstream or downstream or wherever because you trust it. Trusting someone you just met isn't foolish, it's a risk. Sometimes you take risks to see the outcomes, other times you take risks because its a peep hole into what you can take. You were all I could take. I see it all to clearly still, I feel like I am drowning. I was just trusting the water again, learning to float, then you made a splash and drowned me.

You drowned me and didn't save me. I won't make that mistake again.

-M

Apt. 526

1. su fin es un nuevo comienzo
2. fine è un nuovo inizio
3. fin est un nouveau départ

Well here you go dear friends, three ways to say " An end is a new beginning." Maybe this will give you a fighting chance to not sound as cliche' as the other young adults who are constantly spatting out how new their lives have been compared to yours. Eh, or will just make you sound more intelligent, without all those school loan bills, wait I still have those. 

Today is the first full day in my new apartment. So far...pretty humdrum. Of course all I did was grocery shop and make some necessary moves to the furniture but I guess I needed to settle in before I can settle. This isn't my first time living on my own, but it is my first time living on my own in the state I grew up in,with people my own ageish' and of my own picking. So I guess there are aspects of it that will be fresh. It's funny how you breath in and breath out, and one day you wake with new ideas, new friends, and new socks that are dancing on new floors. I like that aspect of being twenty. No expectations going into this, just to have fun and pursue a happier place in myself that would hopefully make itself home. 

Whenever I make lofty moves, no pun intended, in my life I always feel her smiling at me. Not in a creepy, seancey', spiritual kind of way, more of a intuitive, rest-filled place. I know she would be overjoyed at where I am at, who I am, and who I wanna be. I miss hearing it though. Sometimes I know that just the sound of her voice would put my mind at ease about life, but I think I have to face the fear either way. 

I am excited to face my face with new walls surrounding it with new sounds filling it and new love wrapping it, so to that; Cheers! To an End that is a New beginning, and to many more. 

-M

Facade.

Lately, I have been staring longer into my sphere shaped mirror contemplating my unhappiness while memories of happier times flood my brain waves. I remember vividly being a child and so desperately seeking acceptance. I can almost see myself building up defenses when I was hurt, or surprised or frankly misunderstood. When I was in middle school my youth group would go to these retreats in panama city beach every year. I remember feeling completely understood and happy, but most of all, innocent. My mom had cancer but was not nearly as bad for me to even a shed a tear in her behalf. My mom's death changed me for the better, but being able to unveil that in its entirety will take time and hope, which neither are truly on my side lately. I wish I could pocket those feelings I felt in panama city, surrounded by burned, God-fearing kids, just trying to figure out for themselves what following God looks like, with no other outside distractions severely getting in their ways. I don't know if these feelings are side affects of those facades I developed over time, but I can say that they become overwhelming to the point of paralyzation. Maybe I will look back on this post and think, "Woah, I am glad I walked through that,"but no matter how separated I will get from it, I will still feel the scaring it caused me.

-M