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halseycon

writingsforwinter

What You Would’ve Missed Out On If You’d Killed Yourself Last Year

The first pomegranates of the season, their ruby globes

turning your mouth into the last meal of a zombie,

seeds transferred between your teeth and his.

Your mother’s pie-making sessions,

how the crust floured your hands into snow

and the windows steamed with sugar,

so clouded you wrote out help me

with the tip of your pinky finger.

The day when someone did help you.

Flushed the bottles down the toilet,

carried your nodding-off body into bed.

All the first times with the boyfriend

who left you envelopes of stones

to throw at his window in case he ever forgot

to pick you up. The way he spooned against you,

warm and burrowing,

like bears that go to their deaths

as a permanent form of hibernation.

The seaside at 1am, the sand dollars

strung through seaweed

across the rocks like necklaces.

That time you cried

because of onions

and not, for once,

from the emptiness inside.

San Francisco in autumn, the vendors

turning over hot dogs on grills,

the sauerkraut that seared your mouth

into salt and lemon,

how he still kissed you anyway.

Your sister’s solemn voice,

how she woke every day at 6am

to run through the woods

while everyone else lay sleeping.

The stranger who stopped you on the street

to say, everything will be alright.

The day

it finally was.

thepathofpeace-blog

I’ve been here time after time, and I can’t decide if I like these long and painful nights provided by my thriving insides. The sights of sharp toothed bites in dog fights, bright lights and good times were blinding. But hearing high pitched cries in the back corners of my mind was frightening. And at times, I wasn’t sure if I was surviving or dying, but fighting through rough nights has a habit of reviving. We’ve all been here before. It’s life’s most popular tourist attraction. Late nights and early mornings spent deciding whether or not you’ll live to see the sun again. Whether the good days coming are worth heaving through the bad ones for. Whether the light you see on the “bright side” is a promise or just hell fires. And I know you’ve continuously been ordered to stand tall, but you’ve got to understand that sometimes, it’s okay for your head to fall. It’s okay to absent-mindedly stare into blank walls for long periods of time when your future doesn’t feel like showing itself at all. It’s okay to wander through cluttered rooms in the dark just to see what you can find with your eyes covered. You don’t have to have everything figured out. All the best meetings happen by chance. That’s when you know it’s destiny. And if you plan out fifty different futures in one afternoon, don’t worry about it. Tomorrow doesn’t hold grudges. And she’ll continue to carry you through each day with pride. Even if it comes with surprises. Because you are a blessing worth the white knuckles she gets when she holds on as tight as she can. You’re a gift wrapped in pretty colored ribbon and potential, and stacked neatly with the others on life’s kitchen table. And yeah, some of them caught fire sitting so close to the candles on his cake, but the charred remains they left behind are only more that he can paint with. Everything that lies ahead of our “nows” is everything we dreamt of as children. Soon, we’ll all be veterinarians, NFL quarterbacks, more skilled than Picasso could’ve imagined, and the greatest dancer who ever lived. We’ll carve our own paths through marshlands of dreams that were too shy to be lived to their full potential, with the hopes we birthed from our hearts in our darkest days. And as for addictions, and failures, and disappointments, and all the things we never dreamt of being, we can bury those along with our old fear that only ever gave us excuses. That always told us we’d amount to nothing because they envied everything they knew we would become. Along with everything that made us despondent to our own destinies. It is nothing but horrifying and disconcerting out here. I must have a hundred pins stuck in my map in “the middle of nowhere” and swimming through the shattered bone shards of our unsuccessful ancestors doesn’t get us there any faster. But we’ve survived worse. We’ve been through uncertainty bigger than this universe. We’ve questioned the existence of the only thing that could save us and came out wrong. Or right. Or whatever ended up working for you. We have broken, and we have healed, and we have evolved every. single. time. Our futures are so bright, honey. And we’re gonna be fine.

Tomorrows are merciful creatures and we’re gonna be fine. (via thepathofpeace)

amoveteme

My bed is a spinning room; the birthplace of dizzy potential, where I lie and brew my thoughts; a cauldron, spitting feverish misery with every internal provocation. That stirring, thrust forth by my own internal heat, boiling softly under the face of expressionless consternation, prepares a...

dre4mc4tcher

I used to make fun of Those naïve, lovesick girls That stared out windows Daydreaming of the boys Who they’d been silly enough To give their hearts to

I swore that I would never be So foolish as to fall, For with falling comes feeling The crushing pain of loss When it all undoubtedly Hits the ground