Lost and Found

All my limbs can become trees:

It’s like being lost and becoming found,

all in one brief moment of stillness.

Having the world at your weathered fingertips

but clenching your fist instead

in the hopes of holding onto a feeling.

It’s when I breathe deep, and you

You are at the end of my breath.

Returning it to me, filling me up.

Extracting any air of emptiness

Consuming a void I didn’t know I’d had

Taking a trip to a place that only exists in an alternate universe,

where I am floating through time with no relativity

And you return to me, your breath.

Inflating my lungs

It’s a century, if just for a second

A world of questions answered in a mystery unsolved.

It’s a kiss

Strong enough to lose yourself in,

safe enough still

to have become found.

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Turbulence

The heart says :"am hurting",time replies:" you will get better with me", then finally the mind:" but I will always come back with memories" Ω Cliquez pour écouter. Enjoy yourself !..................................................✤.Miley Cyrus Wrecking Ball✤:

 

I miss it, the turbulence.

Sick as that is, gnawing at my edges, trembling the tips of my fingers.

The never knowing-ever-wondering bliss, of imperfections in a disorganized world.

Freedom.

Toxicity brimmed choices, bags around my eyes,

spotted skin with signs of making decisions that I made on my own, for myself.

Cheekbones protruding, arms like twine, tightly wrapped, consoling.

No thought, no judgement, no expectations.

I miss it,

the volatile yet ever evolving relationship I had with just one person in the entire universe.

Myself.

Would I reverse, stand in the shoes of someone who lived in the past?

I already have, a thousand times, been cycling and rising through lives.

Sometimes,

I miss it, the turbulence.

I pray for it, the change.

All while dreading any uncertainty, fearing the worst but expecting it subliminally.

Why do we become weary as we grow old?

Not because things become impossible,

because we realize they are right within our grasp,

but we have chosen not to clench them in our grip.

Taken a different path, that will forever lead us to the same place,

forever advancing in the same direction.

Moving constantly but getting nowhere at all.

Forever and ever the same.

Flight risk, I told you.

And the murmur of turbulence calls my name,

asks me if I will sit right here,

or turn and run

And never look back.

Catch Me If You Can

I found an old flash drive from when I was in college in 2010… thank God I did because it had some personal writing on it that otherwise would have never gotten to exist. Here is a throwback for you, called Catch Me If You Can. It is interesting to see how my writing style has kept a lot of the same tendencies but definitely differs in ways as well. Hope you all are having a productive and creative day 🙂
xoxo,
Shel.

Catch Me If You Can

Don’t catch yourself;
thinking of torturous “what if’s”
regretting the words,
that never got further than the tip of your tongue
wondering how each of my days without you plays out
holding fast to the taste of my skin
wishing helplessly for a happy ending
hoping things eventually set right,
morally and selfishly
Don’t catch yourself;
asking where it was that we took our first wrong turn
getting weak at the unexpected sound of my name
I’ve caught myself,
I’ve done all the same.
Until I realized,
we’ve got nothing but ourselves
nothing but ourselves to blame.

December 2010