Annotations of my Imagination

O_o

I cannot deal with this situation anymore. Almost everything involved in this has only made my life worse off. While I grew a lot as an individual because of my time with you, everything else was a mistake. How we met - mistake. Our relationship - mistake. Who you introduce me to - mistake. Everything makes me want to scream, it’s physically and emotionally draining. I’m just done. I cannot be your friend, I cannot message you back, I cannot see your face; it’s not healthy for me. Ever since I saw you again, I’ve lost my ability to breath and I want it back. I know it was my choices that led me astray, but without you involved in my life, I wouldn’t be subject to such situations. Now I can only hope I didn’t ruin everything.

Life again.

Sometimes we’re so determined to find that connection that we lose track of what we need.

Gin and Tori.
We always have the best days, I’ll miss you next year and until you come back.

May 9th

1 note

Gin and Tori.

We always have the best days, I’ll miss you next year and until you come back.

May 9th

216 notes

Lols

No Repeats

What do you want from me?

It had been months since I’d seen you and I was over everything. That is, I was over everything until last night. And when I looked into your eyes again, I missed everything we had, how you made me smile, how much I grew with you, and wanted everything we could have been if the circumstances of how we met would have been different. You pushed your way back in, and you knew what you were doing, but I let it happen. I made the choice as you did.

And now the feeling has returned. Yet, I still remember how you made me feel in the end, and I don’t want that back.

Composition

Was just asked to compose music for a television show next year through Washington State University’s Cable 8. Win.

Poetry Portfolio: Not Yet Dead, Only Lingering

Not Yet Dead, Only lingering

Atop the hill he believes

perhaps within the trees…

The orchard stringed with fog

alongside the trail of clovers,

roots entangled in his arms

as boots sink into dirt,

and clouds dwell

in his heart

before a wedge of stone,

drawing nearer

noticing letters etched

within its face

his hands arched

like the symbols

the letters spell

his name.

Yet reflected back by glass,

there is a graveyard

of bottles resting

on the edge of his desk

where he sits each night

and drinks

and writes

of his cherished pain,

and maybe

trees and fog,

reminiscent to the bones

below, no longer

swaying, but

dead.

Poetry Portfolio: A Memory: Annotations from Home

A Memory: Annotations from Home

There is a box on the

shelf with charcoal,

lace and dust,

fingerprints

stain its edges,

no longer embedded

with the soft silhouette

of the sun

but scarred by it,

and photographs

from before the home had

burned linger

for the leaves to crisp

orange and yellow,

but the willows’ branches

are cracked and dry,

ivy-trailed brick walls,

tarnished cedar

magnified by age,

no recollection of

what came from inside

rubble and smoke, yet

the door clings to

broken hinges

with hope as

rain falls from

tomorrow’s sky.

"Up to a point, a man’s life is shaped by his environment, heredity, and movements and changes in the world about him; then there comes a time when it lies within his grasp to shape the clay of his life into the sort of thing he wishes to be … everyone has it within his power to say, this I am today – that I shall be tomorrow."

–Louis L’Amour

Poetry Portfolio: To the Borderlined

To the Borderlined

I awake today.

Fingers crawl in my throat.

My teeth ache.

I remember you

ruined me.

Medals and plaques hang

dust-covered. Family portraits

worthless.

Branded into my skin

like cigarettes.

I can’t breathe.

Knots in my shoelaces

unravel.

Thunder roars. I lose

my balance.

I look up.

Your eyes shine.

As a child, unable

to see their intent.

I am changed

and I am afraid

it’s for life,

perhaps not awake at all…