Write On

a collection of thoughts, vents, structured ramblings, heartspills

[melissahem]

Thanks for the Memories

It’s probably better that we didn’t have more memories together.

Because every breezy summer day reminds me of you, and I’m bereft at the thought.

How could I spare another beautiful moment that will forever be stolen by you? That will be owned by you… These moments I can never have back. They linger, fragile in my consciousness, shocking me with a strength I can barely overcome on my own. These moments cause me to succumb to my knees, guilty, trembling in the memory of someone who once owned my entire being.

I can never let a warm breeze delight my skin the same way again. I have you to thank for that.

Thank you for owning only a precious few of my memories. Because I can’t bear to part with the rest.

[melissahem]

What do we carry from one life to the next? Most of us have forgotten, mercifully so, for if we were to remember our past lives, we would remember the baggage, the heartache, the love, the accomplishment, the things we left behind and so seldomly wish to let go of.

But we do remember things... We fall in love with perfect strangers in fleeting moments. We have sparks of anger and frustration with people we've just met, an immediate dislike of someone who triggers our hairline fractures into crevasses of fiery hate (my Scorpio moon talking)... We do remember. But we chalk it all up to our upbringing and our baggage we know of today. The truth is, it goes back so much longer than you think.

For me, everything links back to love. And if I've ever told you I loved you, it means that I still do, and I always will.

[melissahem]

Too many people I know have lost their loved ones too soon. The hopelessness of a generation has manifest into casualties of a war fought between mind, body, and spirit [losing body to mind], but my prayer is that the spirit returns... to live and learn in more soothing passage, having forgotten the baggage and hurt of the previous life. My prayer is that we meet them again in our old age, those of us surviving, and we remember. https://www.instagram.com/p/B8taa78HJzx/?igshid=1aj3xqdv049pd

[melissahem]

[Excerpt from my book, Synchronicity - Link in bio] My heart speaks to her heart My fear speaks to her fear Grasping, needing, wanting, yearning She can't be pushed I can't keep making, straining, orchestrating She can't be pulled I ask her not to abandon me Fearing she’ll turn away She asks me not to lay this on her This gravity Feeling the pressure of this weight And I can't ask her to stay So I ask her to keep her eyes open To look for brighter days Paths ahead that are glimmering, paved “Darling, when the universe hands you love, You don't turn it away!” My heart speaks to her heart They whisper entreaties to stay They ask me to be patient They ask me to wait. 6.18.17 (at TWA Hotel) https://www.instagram.com/p/B785f2-HFfr/?igshid=19sq1w3e2cxrq

[melissahem]

Nostalgia, my seductive muse

Nostalgia, and her inconveniently bad memory

Nostalgia is my unreliable narrator

Nostalgia, linked inextricably to my amygdala, activating vivid memories in my hippocampus

Nostalgia in my olfactory senses, sparking flickering stills of a film reel 

Nostalgia lives in the warm August breeze of an early afternoon rendezvous

Nostalgia lives in the scent of orange peel and bitters, past midnight in a blurry kiss in a bar in Silverlake

Nostalgia of an icy December morning, and leaving a love letter onto a wet windshield, with hope or rejection waiting to be discovered

Nostalgia can no longer recall the tranquility in the morning light of my lover’s room, but she’ll never fail to remind me of the tragedy of that one November night

Nostalgia tells me they loved me more than I remember

Nostalgia tells me they loved me less than I thought

Nostalgia tells me my pain hurts worse than I remember

Nostalgia tells me I loved them more than I thought

[melissahem]

[Daily Reflection - Intention] Excellent quote from my best friend...to paraphrase her therapist. Share this one with whomever you think needs to hear it today. Wise words need to be passed on. It's hard to be intentional about so many things in life, particularly about direction. So often I have found myself so afraid to take on something challenging that I end up thinking of perfectly logical reasons why not. Don't let your brain fool you! I have been able to make some big leaps in my life despite the many more times I've told myself something couldn't be done... Because of moments of deep intention. Living by default will keep you floating above water, but you will find yourself merely floating back and forth, a buoy in the sea. https://www.instagram.com/p/B7tG2SGndp2/?igshid=1g466xpuwywyp

[melissahem]

Pictured is the second half of a poem I wrote to God years ago, asking why I wasn't enough, feeling that I wasn't getting the love I deserved because MAYBE I DIDN'T DESERVE IT. A response came to me, as the words you see pictured in all caps, above. I began crying as I wrote it. There are shaky lines and ink stains on the original piece, from my tears, from my trembling hands. They weren't my words. They were words of deep comfort. I wrote this piece in 2015 or 2016 maybe? Before I met my wife. I had no idea what fate had in store for me...but I was told to always have faith. (at Paris, France) https://www.instagram.com/p/B7M9pddHz4-/?igshid=1k026zcfh8kmy

[melissahem]

Excerpt from my to-be published second book. Adjacent on many pages will be the handwritten poem. (at Paris, France) https://www.instagram.com/p/B7KhPZ5nvBg/?igshid=1t61vajwpvew5

[melissahem]

[Excerpt from to-be-published second book] https://www.instagram.com/p/B7JRiGOhHgu/?igshid=1mzja9kby88xm

[melissahem]

[But I Loved You More Than I Loved Myself] Nobody wants to be put on a pedestal... https://www.instagram.com/p/B66jXwUHuyu/?igshid=1mb8382plx1n

[melissahem]

[The Depth of Your Heart] https://www.instagram.com/p/B66qQU7nWLy/?igshid=1qosyzkbge4ip

[melissahem]

[And you will always be...] Excerpt from upcoming book two. https://www.instagram.com/p/B6vWf2cnTS7/?igshid=1shxcc1vtph6k

[melissahem]

[Today's daily reflection: self-worth] To quote the song written by the Isleys (and sung in perfection by Aaliyah), "At your best, you are Love... You're a positive motivating force within my life Should you ever feel the need to wonder why Let me know..." One of the saddest things I ever see is when good people get stuck in bad relationships. And it has a lot to do with your self worth. When you consider this song, the ability to Be Love, you have to be able to love yourself, in all your beauty, all your shadows, all the flaws that make you, You. If you are not secure and strong in yourself, you will settle for less than You Are. It is important to recognize that you are limitless. At your best, you have the ability to inspire others, build more intimate connections, and be better to yourself. Merry Christmas ❤️❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/B6dzXNTH-Qu/?igshid=fxekv3gv0dsa

[melissahem]

[You are not your tragedy] ¶ Custom handwritten poems available on Etsy.com/shop/melissahemwrites ¶ #poetry #love #poetrycommunity #writersofinstagram #poem #poet #poems #quotes #poetsofinstagram #writer #writing #art #lovequotes #wordporn #thoughts #quote #quoteoftheday #writersofig #words #shayari #life #writerscommunity #instagram #inspirationalquotes #poetryofinstagram #lgbt #lgbtpoetry #typography #calligraphy #handwritten https://www.instagram.com/p/B6HJmjcnHou/?igshid=1b30spxaxe33g

[melissahem]

Connecting the dots was always too easy... Custom handwritten poems available on Etsy.com/shop/melissahemwrites #poetry #love #poetrycommunity #writersofinstagram #poem #poet #poems #quotes #poetsofinstagram #writer #writing #art #lovequotes #wordporn #thoughts #quote #quoteoftheday #writersofig #words #shayari #life #writerscommunity #instagram #inspirationalquotes #poetryofinstagram #lgbt #lgbtpoetry #typography #calligraphy #handwritten https://www.instagram.com/p/B6HI_7CH6in/?igshid=b9sb3rxuoagb

[melissahem]

I once had a relationship end over a mistaken muse

She thought my muse was my previous ex... That because I continued to write these poems about my ex, I was harboring old and hidden desires.

My muse was the rejection I hadn't come to terms with. My muse was the guilt over which I hadn't forgiven myself. My muse was the angst over my first true love of a woman who wouldn't take the steps to be with me.

It's tricky...being a writer, perhaps to explain these things. I thought I was in the wrong, because clearly it damaged her trust towards me; I unintentionally damaged the idea that she would be the sole occupier of all the space within my heart.

Quite romantic to think, that only one thing should ever occupy our heart. Was it selfish of me to normalize the fact that many things flow in and out of my heart, quite many transient things...but my point towards her, one that fell mute unto her, is that she was the thing that remained always.

[melissahem]

Not A Poetry Book

Energy is never destroyed. It continues to exist in perpetuity. What's not to say words and thoughts and music and creation don't exist as an endless spectrum of invisible wavelengths in the soup of our creative, communal shared mind?