memory

“According to a recent study, just as you can’t step in the same river twice, your memories are changed by the act of recalling them, meaning that every memory we have is colored by the times we’ve recollected it before… recalling a memory more often makes that memory less accurate, and that every time you take…

worn out words | poem

thoughts travel without passports or permission; love cannot be contained in the human body, so it now grows in the oak trunk of an endless tree. time threads us together in loose, haphazard seams; dreams contain all my greatest fears and fantasies, so now I plant them in the mulch beneath tall grasses to grow…

Patience and Cheesecake | Saturday Thoughts

Hello and hello! For the people who keep up with my blog, I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’ve been a bit absent. I’m nearing the end of my summer college courses, which means lots of prep work for finals and presentations. My mind has been very focused on the more academic side of my life…

princess transformation | self-indulgent dress sequence

the princess adorns her new gown for the ball, feeling more beautiful and strange than ever before! Laileah sat on a low window seat, swinging her feet. As she waited for the other woman, she admired the craftsmanship of her gown. It was one of the most delicate shades of blue she had ever seen,…

A Child Born With a Greater Propensity for Sadness than His Peers

memories of the fairytale’s prince In a clearing that had lost its detail and remained only its space and existence were four children. Two boys of bronze skin and golden hair, and the other set of twins the boys both called Flower. One of the boys, louder and brash, was usually not to play with…

Words of the Beloved

What a gift she was, what a gift she held, what a gift she loved. There would be no satisfaction in death for either of them, she thought, if they did not complete what they were tasked to do.

a remembered dream

how strange a thought it is now to think it was once lost this loving reality-to-be that guides my every step once forgotten by me how horrible life would be (would be and was) to live (just barely) with forgotten dreams ~Sammicakes

destiny, calling, and the future you now hold

The one I want would want me to love myself. And I cannot love myself if I feel I am not living honestly. I cannot love myself if I let what I once thought of myself drain me of life and love. There are no limits to my dreams, and love is simply an umbrella…

Mercy

I’m going to pick them all apart to shreds, to atoms, in my heart, they will always fail in my head they will never enter and in my hand they will forever fall Hold my flowers on your sturdy branches or leave me as a seed to die My love is buried in the roots…

Wicked Beauty of the Only Queen

A moment of recollection: Her humor, her compassion, her intellect, her passion, her love– all of it had once stemmed from her sadness. It guided her perspective and worldview. It led her actions, and it inspired the thoughts she shared aloud with me. That ache of emptiness ascended her to the stars. Now all I…

Jealousy is Futile | Self-love Snippets

Everyone has a quality that I could be jealous of. Who does it serve to hold a burning hate for those I believe are above me because they do not lack what I have convinced myself I do? Who does it serve to diminish myself down to an inferior being? Why should I not instead…

nightache

Dying leaves of the lightest branches fall off the low-lying trees like veils and they slip over of my eyes, so that all I see is scattered nothing and blue blackness in quiet, lonely time I sink to the floor in fear and overwhelming feeling, laying my head in damp earth and shrunken flowers and…

Call to Action, Call to Attention, Call for Affection

The toxins rose above onto the surface of my skin with nowhere to go, my turmoil, my dread, my negativity, my sadness, all from within. And now they mark my face, my body, exposed and evident for all to see. What other choice do I have but to address and repair them to be the…