The Girl Behind The Red Door...

You will wake me up
Respire words into my ears
Paint pictures of granting me a better life
Writing postcards from foreign lands and catching my desperate tears with your mouth
You love me
And I can’t figure out why I cannot grab onto
My dreams
But I know
You’re keeping them
Safe
In your heart.

Why are our hearts so fragile in the craze of strength
And of stability
We’re cracked and broken
But our pieces are solid
Cutting the feet of the ones who walk over us
Raining fire on the ones who tread under us
But we’re all so sad
In the land of utopia
What
The
Hell
Are
We
Doing?

I’m holding my skin together

With inked on safety pins

And holding my dreams together

With the rest of what I have.

I’m holding it all in the palms of my hands

And it’s going to

Save my life.

(Source: sunafterthestorm)

What?

Did you think

That you were in my songs

That I strummed your features

Into my heart

And etched your voice into my lungs

You think I

Breathe?

You think I feel with the tips of my fingers and the pad of my tongue?

Don’t you know who I am?

Don’t you know

That history is a sham

And I am a sinner

Too?

(Source: sunafterthestorm)

These visions are illusions

And I can only think

When I’m barely breathing and thumbing the sound of my heartbeat on strings from the back of my throat

It goes on

And beats

And beats

And it just

Won’t

Stop

Until I paint it red and rid myself of the sand between my toes and the mirrors in my room and the fog above the sand at 5 a.m.

These cities are my voice

And I’m throwing up

My silence.

(Source: sunafterthestorm)

I want to fall down rabbit holes

and smile at the illumination of graffiti on the city walls when the sun peeks through the morning,

wake up when the smell of coffee and elation hit me and

 grasp the daisys with my fingers covered in earth,

 begging for salvation from their roots

But I am dizzy from today and

far too anxious for tomorrow

Can I just

Slow

d

 o

w

   n

and

hold on

until these dreams

(cradle) me to sleep?

(Source: sunafterthestorm)

It’s 2 o’clock on a Tuesday.
or Thursday.
It could be Saturday if I knew the difference or felt a wave of compulsion towards thinking those details important.
I can see blue skies and I can see crystal fluid making houses for creatures below our feet and there are rays of light above me and in your eyes.
I am next to you and yesterday I held your hand that used to be calloused from the hours you put into loving the earth. Today your sun burnt neck told me stories of longing to walk in the door another day and dance with me in the hallway.
Sometimes to Billie Holiday and sometimes to white noise.
I love you all the same.
And tomorrow I will stand with a comfort that only the tips of your fingers bring to my palm during a conscientious spout of insanity in my restless mind and I cannot bear the thought of being any further away from you.
But whether the sun is out or in a hiding place amongst storm clouds,
whether it is Tuesday or Saturday,
I love you just the same. 
But I love you more today.

(Source: sunafterthestorm)

I felt it in the music notes
The smell of the spring air
The bliss of the ignorance of youth
The taste of the joys of summertime,
Of freedom.

They told me
“Just you wait
You’ll know misery
You will”

And now I walk in circles
Throat lumped with tears that desperately escape
Because as I stare at the floor
All I can think about
Is the life I thought I held in the palm of my hand
And how I wish I knew what Sunday brunch was like

But I never realized
The sun doesn’t shine for me
when I want it to,
I have to walk out those damn doors
And chase it down.

Trouble is,
It seems I’ve forgotten how to run.

He pulls at her
Hair and her
Clothes
And her flesh
Wondering
How hard
He can push
Until her shirt comes off
And her heart is his
To break

I wonder
How long
It took your wounds to
Heal,
I’m still licking
The salt
And chasing your ghost.

And I can’t contain my love for you
The boy with a thousand words
I feel your breath and I fall
I fall
And it took me so long
To know what was real
But I feel you now
I feel you.

My mind no longer wanders,
Begging for another chance to
Rewind
And reset
Fairytales
Of a hurricane I was tangled in,
Enveloped in the pseudo-love
Of a boy with lip marks and ink stains
Who told me he wanted only me.
But giving in never felt like home
Until I found my head’s resting place
In between your smile and your hip bones.
Passion dances in circles to a miracle that emanates from your heart and your lungs
And plays with the lines of blue in the light of your eyes
And I love this storm so much better.
And it will rain
And it will pour
And we will be damp with tears and the wind,
Shivering limbs
And chattering teeth
And swollen lips
But I can hold you so much tighter now,
I can hold you and mean it.
I’ll be the ocean’s current that pulls you under but washes you softly and safely to shore
And I’ll be what you cry out for in the still of the night
No one will give you more.
I’ll be the clouds when the world is too bright
I’ll be your never before
And I’ll be the fire that keeps you warm,
I’ll be your sun after the storm.

Forgive me, music4feelings, but I have to post this. My fellow tumblr writers, this man wrote this for me, and I was absolutely blown away. Nobody has done something like this and I never knew how much I meant to him. So I thank him a thousand fold and wish for you all to read.
———————————————————

Here I lay, clouds roll in light begins to fade. Images become mere blurs eventually disappearing. Will this storm pass? I dare question the truths of nature. She is the sunlight behind the storm. How do I get back to the light? My body craves the warmth. I crave her warmth.
Will she ever look at me the same way she looked at him? I’m hoping I can change her, be her sunlight behind the clouds. All I can do is endure through the storm, through every pelting rain drop on my back. As thunder strikes,
Fear racing through my heart.(will she ever, will she ever.) I cry out for help but no one is around, I must wait this out. I arise out of the dirt and rubble of the storm, look around to see the remainder of my heart in pieces on the floor. She approaches slowly kneeling to pick them up, a slight beam of light pierces the clouds landing on her beautiful face. In this moment of clarity I realize there is no greater moment than when the sunlight shines after a storm.

Your knives are words
And
His knives are fists
But both of them
Gut
And stab
And draw blood
Just as much as the other.
Who would have thought
You were both
Murderers?

There’s a crick in my spine
Or two
Or three
Where I’ve been
Bending
So feverishly
So furiously
To make you okay.
And “thank you”
Is such a simple phrase
It rolls off the tongue
But
I don’t think I’ve ever heard it
Despite my ears and their longing to lick up each syllable
To drink up the letters
Bit by sincere bit
And maybe when it’s too late
I’ll hear your lips spit words
Of a fool

I’m a fool,

I’m a fool.