She was somethin'

She was something. Even with what I considered to be a vast vocabulary. Those were the only words I could possibly use to describe her because she was something alright. She was a concept that I just couldn’t grasp an enigma that I pondered too long. Or maybe one that I should’ve pondered longer because I know in my heart of hearts that she was the answer I was seeking. She was a theorem in and of herself with proofs that couldn’t be proven. It was hard to think that she was even human or that something like her could even exist. I still questioned this Bc of how she captured my attention how even the syllables of her words caressed her lips. She was so hit or miss. She was like something off god’s very own check list. I bet after her creation he was like ‘yo, universe check this’. The universe probably didn’t have any idea what this hybrid human/ galaxy was but was probably thrown into utter bliss for she existed. The universe tried ever so hard to name her, but came up with nothing. Even the universe drew a blank around her for all she knew was this girl was something. And it proved to my arrogance that I would try and do what the universe couldn’t. I tried to put a label on something that was indescribable and I shouldn’t. I compared her to everything that was in sight from a symphony to a bible. Lately I’ve been grasping at straws to finish my cause of naming her. Then I realized that was the equivalent of taming her Bc there was no explaining her Bc at any given moment she could be anything and at every given moment she was my everything and if I was gambling man who was into betting things. I’d go all in and bet everything that she was the type of girl to make heaven sing. Maybe later in life I’ll have an epiphany that she has always been classified. maybe that epiphany will give me some sense of mind. That she has been something all this time. Something all right or maybe just something that’s mine

Do you love me

Do you love me? Every time she would ask my answer would be different because boy she was different. I’d push the question aside but she was always by my side so she’d simply restate her question. Do you love me? And of course I did but things like that were never easy for me to say and apparently that made it harder for her to stay But she did, continuing to ask this question as if it would yield the meaning of life. I was so tempted to answer to satiate her curiosity but somehow I lost all my words around her like all the sound when she was around lost all its velocity, so none of my words could reach her. Do you love me she persisted all the while I’m still speechless trying to reach this voice inside of me that’s shouting yes. I mean it wasn’t that hard to guess. I tried telling her in roundabout ways like the way I looked her. How every image seemed so dull around her. How I told her she was my religion. How 60% of the of my diction paused at the mention of her name and the other 20/20 went towards the vision that I had for us. I mean I had to trust that she got the message. I did all I could of except what I should’ve. I gave her all but my best and the one thing that’s left on my chest if she asked me if I loved her ever again… I’d probably just utter yes

My kinda love

I want that early Sunday morning kinda love. Where church isn’t the place I worship. I want that pay 80 dollars for a matching t shirt that we never wear kinda love. I want a you’re meeting my parents so trim your beard and your hair kinda love. I want that even though I don’t really care tell me about your friends kinda love. I want that what are you doing? It depends kind of love. I want that crazy let me clone you using your split ends kind of love. I want that call me when you get home kinda love. Knowing damn well that I’ve already used up all my cellular data on my phone kinda love. I want that I’m not hungry but I’ll steal some of your chilli cheese fries kinda love. I want that if I share my food with you and I don’t cry you know it’s real kinda love. I want that tell my friends about you so they tease me kinda love. I want that you just texting me pleases me kinda love. I want a cliche kinda love. I want that you have flaws but I’ll accept them anyway kinda love. I want that I don’t believe in anything but you still make me pray kinda love. I want a silent I don’t have anything else I need to say kinda love. I want a pacing back and forth while you’re typing your message kinda love vowing that I’ll never exercise. Then I do it again as I exercise my freedom of speech as you make it so hard to do as you leave me speechless kinda love except for some mild extremities as if you were holding me down like I’m holding you down as my blood rushes to some of my extremities namely my hand that’s in yours and I just grip tightly as if I was applying pressure to a perfuse wound. That’s my kinda love. I want that correct me to show that we both have power kinda love. I want that don’t say my. Say our kinda love.

the transition between years never feels distinctive enough. it needs to be jarring. i vote that each year we change the colour of the sky so that we can truly feel when the new year has begun

iconic

S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #233 (via blossomfully)

S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #236 // The ten ways that he’ll leave you (via blossomfully)

S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #239 (via blossomfully)

Oh u love ur mom? Name 3 of her albums

1) I swear to fucking god I have to do everything in this house 2) No it’s okay I’ll do it myself 3) If I have to ask you one more time I’m gonna lose it

about me

Emotions

My spoken words. Hell my life has lacked emotion and depth. Some say you need emotion to have depth. Well I lack emotion like Patrick Swayze lacks breath. She gives me some emotion. There is no dirty dancing although I call her baby and I’m her lover boy. She’s more like a female Charles Manson. She kills me. She’ll probably get away without any conviction. She’ll probably read my eulogy like hazel grace but with less faith and less conviction. Just like how I’m reading this spoken word. However she won’t get stuck on every verb or should I say every predicate. Every tender sound when she’s around is so delicate. I’m getting lost in my cause. Every single sentence causes me to pause. Making my face tighten as if I had locked jaws. Are these the emotions I’ve been lacking? Her eyes are a trip and I need a vacation, but I haven’t been packing. I’ll probably need to borrow some emotions just to enjoy the trip. The only feeling that keeps me reeling is when she’s biting her lip. Maybe she’s the person who’s going to make me emotionally emotional. Making those emotions seem like there on sale. I mean She doesn’t have to try hard. I don’t need a promotional. She’s probably out of stock but she’s all I got. So let’s just have the wedding and release the doves. I still don’t have any emotions. So could you do me a favor and call me later or at least give me love

If I stay

I’ve been here for eight months. That has to mean something. Me a person who can’t stand still around you….stayed for eight months. The fact that I associate your name with my very own happiness. The fact that my blood was always rushing around you…unlike my legs that were stuck in place. Don’t let that fool you, I wasn’t still…yet I still stayed. I had hoped that eventually that your common thoughts would mention me, and that I’d be running through your mind. Our love was like my very own marathon. Well, It was more of a spectators sport. Some might say it was boring but I didn’t have the heart to leave. The curtains were closing and you were center stage. It’s something that I couldn’t stage. The play was over but I still stayed. That has to mean something. It was like every day I was greeted by a faint exit lights to a movie that wasn’t quite over because it still attracted two passionate viewers. It was like living in the sewers. I should probably sue her for how she had me in the gutters leaving me alone and utter…ly afraid. She said I chose to be here. But shouldn’t it mean something if I chose to stay. It has to mean something even if my knees shake I won’t break I should probably patell her that. It’s like I hit her with my knee cap. Get it cause I kneed her. Not the type that you’d do in mma but the type of need that was in the movie if I stay. Hopefully she’ll be moved by this unless her feelings have decayed. But if I give her everything until there’s nothing left would it even matter if I stayed.

When it rains it pours

She just appeared like raindrops on a summers day. She was like morning fog with painstaking eyes. Like that fog oh my god she left me mystified. I couldn’t help but to think about her. Her very presence made me want to evaporate like an ocean being exposed to the sun. Everyday she would come and disappear like the tide like the ocean to the moon I had a strange pull to her eyes. Then one day I pulled her aside and try to explain that I wanted something to precipitate from this reaction with this girl who smelled of rain, but she rained on my parade leaving me soaked and afraid of what was coming. After that day I had such cloudy thoughts. She was far out of reach. I was experiencing a drought. I thought I could weather this weather. But I had my doubts because when most kids gets stressed they just get acne and breakout. I didn’t need a dermatologist. I needed someone who could predict this pattern. I needed a meteorologist. She was a maelstrom in a sense.She made me feel everything all at once. Slowly my feelings began to condense and I was able to keep cool around her. She no longer got me down. Then I realized when I looked into her eyes that like the water cycle that eventually all that rain has to fall down. I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. It came as quick as a monsoon. These weather changes were beyond alarming. I don’t know what to chalk it up to. Can I just be like Al Gore since her touch leaves me wanting more and blame global warming?

When it rains it pours

Why was she so beautiful? She was the type of girl to make the oceans roar with jealousy due to her deep blue eyes. She was the type of beautiful that made one do unthinkable things. I mean I’m not going to say that she’s everything that I ever wanted. She’s more like everything I never wanted. I actually hate everything about her. I hate how her hair flows. How her lips crinkle wgen she talks. How her breathing is so damn steady. Or so I told myself. Maybe she’s a mistake. Because I’ve mistaken her for a star, but she’s a galaxy. I hate her so much. I cringe as I say the word I love you. It’s not that I don’t mean it. It’s just that I mean it more. More than I could ever say. I don’t know how to explain that she had me at hello, but she’s just keeps talking procrastinating from the task at hand. I hate that about her. How we never get anything done. how a busy Sunday is the just another lazy afternoon. How she thinks the universe revolves around her. I hate it because mine actually does. I hate that she that she expects a forever when I only see her sometimes. And sometimes last time I checked is a big step away from always cause she always leaves me thinking about whether or not I love her just in the here in now. Maybe that’s true. I hate that she thinks this is just a spontaneous decision. I love her with every fiber of my being with every breath until I turn blue. I love her within the crevices of my mind. Hell, I love her cause my soul tells me too. I hate how I’ll choke up while reading this. But I just feels like this needs to be said. And with that being said I’ve always hated your love lists, but here’s the ten things I hate about you.

She said that she didn’t think anyone would ever write about her. Why not? When everything is so right about her. She wonders if she’s not good enough. Well those should be foreign thoughts like white clouds to black skies. She doesn’t think anyone would write about her. Well my pen screams her…