Meg & Lou

bits and pieces of my bits and pieces

[timbllr]

Untitled by elsa bleda Via Flickr: Johannesburg

[meganlougs]

You open your eyes

You’re inside a nest.

Tou now have wings.

Where do you fly to?

[meganlougs]

[meganlougs]

[meganlougs]

I am a raincloud, not a silver lining.

We like to think we have a choice as to who and how we love. Yet, love often pours out of us unapologetically, unwillingly;

drenching others and leaving us bare

thirsty.

It isn’t until later in life (maybe too late) that we realize, there is probably such a thing as too much love.

You see, not everyone loves rainy days, especially when you carry the thunder of storms.

Sometimes, you might be an ache in the bones,

a cloud without silver lining.

M. Lou

[meganlougs]

Somewhere around loving others too much and loving myself too little, I might’ve lost my sanity

[meganlougs]

The days are getting harder

I’m trying to find purpose out there

[meganlougs]

I would like spontaneous kisses on the forehead,

deep stares and meaningful “I love yous”

I dream of a kiss on a hand and flowers in the other. I’d like to be reminded I’m beautiful when I’m really a mess and I’d like to feel I’m desperately loved and necessary.

I think about meaning more, about being more ideal, about perhaps fitting the frame. I dream my oddity weren’t so overwhelming and my legs weren’t as long as they are.

I dream I was loved more, I wish I didn’t have to ask for love.

[meganlougs]

I sometimes feel like sunshine, more often than not, I feel like thunderstorms in the middle of summer.

[meganlougs]

There must be a place

Further ahead , deeper in the woods than lonely.

I don’t know the name but that’s where I’m standing.

I am standing in the middle of tomorrow,

In the middle of everything I’ve ever wanted and I hate it.

I despise myself for wanting things I never deserved.

[filmskamasta]

[meganlougs]

[meganlougs]

The forest has a crown of gold

Mossy footprints on my windowsill 

I dream of somewhere I have not stepped before,

foreign woods to call my home. I wander.

There’s a fire scorching up the walls and it burns the insides of my cheek,

I want to taste it all but my mouth’s in flames. 

Mossy footprints on my bed sheets,

A bed green and woven lilies to rest my head. I can dream. 

I can dream of places unmet. 

[meganlougs]

The toothbrush was still dripping

when you packed your bags

[meganlougs]

The 20s are roaring with an ache

The new year came roaring indeed,

Loud and undeniably present,

it walked into the room with the type of look that cannot go unnoticed,

Shrieking with each step

I am here, look at me

and we are, we are looking

We look at the threatening sway of its feet

Dancing under moonlight and waking the sleepers

who are not really sleepers but merely observers

I am here, look at me

and we keep looking

We look because we cannot afford not to

The 20s dance, while the rest of us wait

It mimics a race, out of tune and fast paced

shaking the floors even after the music stopped playing in the background.

I am here, look at me

We are looking, trust that we are looking.

[meganlougs]

There is just too much noice

Even in the somber autumn nights I can hear it

The constant buzzing playing in my pillow

I decided to name it.

When you name something, it makes it yours, it morphs into the idea that you might actually own something to your name.

Naming it also makes it dangerous.

Naming it makes it real and that is not the kind of thing we want here.

There’s an unceasing buzzing rattling my bed, clinging to my head.

And It makes me want to dance, cold feet on the floor and bare bodied.

There’s too much noise here since you left and I don’t remember the last time it was so loud in this place.

You and your emptiness, your dull spirit and absent words; that’s what I call a crowd.

There’s so much noise here now that you’re gone

and I like it.

[thegoodvybe]