Typewriter Trials (pt. 1)

Random Update (not poetry or anything remotely interesting)

Hey guys (or whoever actually reads this blog [so like two of my friends]) I know I haven't posted anything I've written very recently, mostly because I've been so busy. Once things start to settle down (and I have more time to way over-think things) is usually when I start writing the most. So yeah, and I think I might start doing the titles differently again because just writing the date is kind of boring and confusing. (Did I just insult my less mature self I think so). All right that's all good bye have a nice day. 

Mid Summer Job Dilemma (Lucas I Hope You See This.)

You smiled. 

We talked.

You winked. 

I blushed. 

You joked.

We laughed. 

You flirted. 

I crushed.

The you's stayed you's,

But the I's turned to she's and the we's turned to they's. 

My hopes were stunned

And my dreams fell flat.

You would have been mine

If you didn't talk to every girl

Just like that.

07.30.13 *at work*

Just two more hours
Until I'll be home with you,
My dear, sweet laptop

Fetus Me

06.06.13

I look up suddenly from my sketchbook as I hear the door open.

"Hello, can I help you find anything?" I ask the beautiful boy walking past me. 

"I'm all right, thanks," His faint Australian accent plays across his words.

He doesn't look at me, so I steal another awkward glance. He saunters over to the sunscreen shelf and contemplates. He runs his fingers through his up-kept dirty blonde hair and sighs. He chooses a bottle, then spies some board shorts he likes. He picks them up off the rack and examines them. After noticing the price, he promptly puts them down. Shaking his head, he turns back around to face the counter I'm standing behind. I frantically straighten my name badge and subtly fix my hair. It's hard to look cute and intriguing in my blue polo and khaki shorts required for my job. He glances at his phone, to check the time I assume, and strolls up to the register. As he hands me the sunscreen bottle, our hands touch for a split second; I doubt he even notices. I steal a hurried look at his gorgeous, deep blue eyes, following faint trail of freckles along the bridge of his nose, and take in the aura of his perfectly tan skin. I linger a little too long before our eyes meet. He gives me a sweet smile and raises his eyebrows. I stutter the total and he hands me his credit card. I run it regularly then hand him his receipt to sign. I silently curse myself for not looking at the name on the card! He glances up at me once more before putting the pen to paper. He signs his perfect signature and hands me the receipt. I barely hear him whisper a soft "thank you very much" before he grabs his sunscreen and strides toward the door. I smile to myself, sigh, and tighten my grip on the counter and the receipt. He turns around at the last second to give me a smirk and a wink. He nods toward the paper in my hand and opens the door. Just like that, he's gone. As I notice his scent still lingering around me, I fall back onto the counter.

"What just happened?"

I examine the receipt, searching for his name, deciphering his signature. I notice a phone number and a rushed smiley face scrawled out underneath his name, Cody. I can only make out his first name and the number, but that's all I need. 

THEN I WOKE UP. HAHA UGH. 

04.14.13

You are a Book.
I am a Poem.
Both so astoundingly different,
Yet, so fascinatingly similar.
Both works of Art,
Both beautifully written
With enthralling Phrases and Clauses.
You are my literate other half,
Completing my Sentences while
Correcting my eminent Errors.
There is nothing superfluous about
Our Frantastic Friendship.
And no longer in breathtaking solitude,
We naturally embrace each other's Existence,
Quite as two were meant to complete.
Your winsome Smirk invites My exacting Grin.
Our ever-so-anti Lucidity
Intertwines with the sincerity for
Our kindred, quixotic Passions.
I long to be Nostalgic,
Though We are just beginning to create
Our many endless Memories.
Although I am a Poem and
You are a Book,
I'm lovingly Honored to call upon You
As absolutely nothing less than

My Best Friend.

03.29.13 - Good Friday

"It is finished" were the last words Jesus spoke before giving up his spirit on the cross. He wasn't saying that He was finished, no way. He proves that wrong Easter Morning. No, He was saying that the Old Testament laws and teachings and prophesies are finished. That sin is finished. In Hebrew, the verb "finished" is a "perfect verb", meaning it is not only done and completed currently, but is done and completed for forever and eternity. Jesus perfectly finished sin this Good Friday by voluntarily being nailed to the cross for us. And since I'm kind of a bit grammar obsessive, the whole "verb thing" really interested me. Okay. Sermon's over.

Silly Little Heartbreaker

Silly little heartbreaker,
Why are YOU crying?
You knew what you were doing when you started your lying.
Silly little heartbreaker,
You shouldn't be sad.
You know you hurt me, you sure don't have it as bad.

03.11.13

It's better to dig a hole, than to build a wall.
When cowering behind the wall, you're vulnerable on the three other sides.
When crouched inside the hole, your only way out is up.
When the wall happens to crumble, you're left exposed to the world.
When the hole caves in, you're closed, covered and hidden.

02.24.13

a small ballerina bun, wears the girl softly whispering. speaking in a language only her lover understands. she knows not of consistence, not of dedication or commitment. she finds security in her quiet, peaceful corner of the world. often, she secludes herself into the nostalgic, artistic crevices of her mind. if, quietly, you can hear her whispering, become her lover. see and understand the soft language of the precious, young girl with the ballerina bun.

02.08.13

Why do I give you the time of day
If all you do is take my breath away?
Since I'm out of sight and out of mind,
Why do you still consume my time?
Your sweet gaze is so intriguing,
How can I find myself still believing?
Yeah, I'll admit, I still wish it was me.
I do still wish we could talk endlessly.
But that's not possible now.
You've changed.
I've changed.
We're different.
Yet, so much the same.

01.20.12

F is for "friends" who always avoid each other,
U is for you and everyone else but me,
N is for never ever making eye contact,

Down here in the deep blue sea.

12.30.12

Crosswalks and coffeeshops
Gusty winds and quivering chins
Antique stores with open doors
Dusty books in seclusive nooks
Train tracks and panic attacks
Cameo jewelry and animal cruelty
Skyscraping towers just watching for hours
Strangers' absent smiles and Virginian houses for miles
Street lamps and café slants
Heated cocoa and walking too slow
Nostalgic glances and second chances
Another chance to get away
Eventually
Is this where we'll stay?