I know how invisible you think you are,

shrouded in self-doubt,
shrinking further and further
into the walls of that empty,
empty blackness that you've built for yourself.
I know how invisible you think you are.
But you're not, Lovely, you're not--
i can see you, lit up like goldshine snow,
shimmering in the soft, sharp firedust that falls upon you,
shifting and filtering through the dark,
showing how beautiful you are, how full of Love.
I know you can see that shimmer, Lovely,
and i know, i know that you think
you're the only one that can see it.
I know you think that it can only be seen
by those crackling amber eyes,
that it can only be acknowledged
by that tilting, spontaneous half-smile.
I know how invisible you think you are.
But Lovely, you need to know,
you need to know,
just how visible you could be.
When you see those twirling, eternal sun spotlights,
you need to stop thinking that they're for someone else.
They're for you, Lovely.
They're for you.

It would be better

if heartbreak was icecrystal
shattering against steel.
Instant, loud, dramatic.
Not this slow ripping,
this silent pain,
disguised by a mask of
poorly composed nonchalance...

Transfixed on the space where midnight blue melts to nighttime rose,

lost in the sunset flashing
off of sheet-ice windows,
mirrored by your fire
filled eyes.
Dancing shadows,
dark and flitting,
sprint under your eyelids,
blue circles of smoldering ice
chasing them from side
to side.

Stardust (if you're still reading this):

alrighty. so i'm totally being weird today, and i went back and read all of your comments. and then i found "an oxymoron that shouldn't exist, but does". you said it when you were talking about the sparkles in cement, remember?

and then, i was thinking, that in class yesterday, this kid was talking about blacklights.

an oxymoron that shouldn't exist, but does.

i n s p i r a t i o n

• light
• Love
• colors
• people
• you
• windown
• nighttime
• stars
• pens
• movement
• cars
• building
• time
• fountains
• coins
• music
• sounds
• lyrics
• writers
• strangers
• dreadlocks
• leather jackets
• photographs
• cameras
• lists
• keyboards
• freedom
• opinons
• dimensions
• words
• knowing
• blankness
• temperature
• happiness
• sadness
• why the fuck am i writing this?

So um.

I haven't written in a while.

It's a combination of a lot of things, but that's not important.

I'll try harder though, kay? Love you guys.