Welcome.

This blog is run by Kelsie and Ashley. We're writers that every now and then need an escape. Please, join us.

[quiveringmazes]

Ashley’s writing will be temporarily removed from this blog.

(She’s looking to publish elsewhere! If you have any questions, please contact her at we-pray-as-wolves)

[quiveringmazes]

Submit your writing!

We would be happy to post it on this blog :) - Ashley

[quiveringmazes]

Things to do when you're sad.

Walk around with your camera: nature is always good.

Listen to music that makes your heart race and your skin rise with goosebumps.

Call a friend and if they don't answer call another.

Watch one of your favorite movies or tv shows. It might distract you from thinking about why you're sad especially, if its humorous.

Write. Writing is an excellent way to express your feelings. Don't worry about it not coming out like on of your favorite authors. Everyone writes differently and remember you're focusing on you.

And if all those seem to fail, just cry because afterwards it feels fucking fantastic. You feel. You feel the soreness in your eyes, how your head feels as if its going to explode, and how you're exhausted yet not all at once. It makes you feel alive and that in itself is a beautiful feeling. 

[suddendeathinflorida-blog]

New Jersey.

Last night you told me that at some point you’re probably going to be moving back to New Jersey. You said you want to be a cop in Middletown, and in that moment the famous cat caught my tongue. I shook my head and smiled not knowing what to really say. While you talked I noticed the excitement in your voice and the way your eyes lite up. No matter what, I will support you. I will support you because, I would want you to do the same for me and most importantly, I love you and want you to be happy and successful. I’m just scared, you have a part of your future planned out and I don’t. I have no idea if I’m even going to be driving a year from now or if I’m going to be in college. I hope I’m doing those things because then I wouldn’t be such a low life. I wouldn’t have to get rides everywhere and I’d be moving toward my future instead of wasting away. Last night you told me you're thinking about going back home. And I hope when that day comes there’s room for me or visiting dates scribbled on our hands.

[quiveringmazes]

Since I started loving you:

Everyday seems a little brighter. 

Every hurt stings a little bit less.

[quiveringmazes]

I keep trying to remember the last time I hurt this bad

Everything I built up came crashing down around me

The smiles that were sincere a week ago now forced

But I’m trying

I can’t be the person you deserve, and I’m sorry

I’ll never be as strong as you

I’ll never be as kind hearted

But I’m trying

I wish you knew what you’ve done

How far I’ve come

Even if I slip back into the darkness every now and then

I’m better now than I’d ever imagine I could be

I’ll try to tell you every now and then

What exactly you’ve done

You took a broken person 

And made me whole again

I’ll never repay you fully for that

But I’m trying.

[youremygorgeouschaos-blog]

Parts of You.

Your voice reminds me of a song that never gets old. Your eyes make me think about the lake near my old house, I used to go there when I felt abandoned. Your embrace is the one thing I never want to forget. Your lips taste like home to me, And I never thought I would experience that. Your smile helps me believe nothing stays dark forever.

[quiveringmazes]

Being alone in the dark, feeling disturbed, and wanting to disappear. Isn’t a good mix especially, when you know that one quick move could end it all. Ignore the fact that your body is going rot in a coffin underground. Ignore the fact that several loved ones might keep some of your ashes. Just think about how lovely it would be to be able to take your own personal pain that one understands.     And if you ever had it in you to grew the courage to ask, “Why?”     I sure as hell would smile, look down maybe bite my bottom lip and say, "wish I knew."

[youremygorgeouschaos-blog]

9-26-13

We cuddled on my bed made for midgets and our lips told us how soft they are. You looked down on me and whispered,             “I have to go soon, I don’t want to make my dad mad.” I let out a sigh and kissed your lips. You locked your arms around me some more and later announced that you only have one sock visible. I let myself free from your hold and leaned over the bed to search for your hidden sock. I pulled it out from under the bed and handed it to you.             You let out a chuckled “thank you.” I watched you clothe your feet and wished it wasn’t for the reason it was meant for. Once you were done my eyes moved up to your face smiling, your fingers were in fists with your thumbs pointed out and moving towards the outside world. I smiled slightly and got up - leading the way. I walked you to your parked Jaguar and pulled you in a hug. We said our goodbye’s with kissing and hugging because, voicing those words is like insulting your mother. I placed my chin on your chest and looked into your eyes, your brown eyes peered back and I watched your lips move as your words slipped to my ears.             You whispered, “I love you.” And in the moment I wanted nothing more but to gain the courage to say it back but instead I smiled and kissed you, so you would know that I’m not leaving.

[quiveringmazes]

To you,

I don’t know when I first decided I loved you. I wish I did, I wish I could exact the date and have it written in all the history books. I denied myself of you for too long. Partially out of fear, and partially out of pure stupidity. There are some people in the world, like me, who are just a fragile journal. Some people pick us up and write themselves a chapter, then throw us away. We become weathered, until the next curious person adds themselves into our story. And so goes the process. People write and leave. Some of the chapters are happy, others are sad. Some of the people are tender in their writing, elegant and pure. Others scratch and tear at our pages, bleeding their anger from one page through to the next. Soon everything becomes blurred and a mess. Rain makes the ink run. We are lost again. You were the artist. Who saw a mangled journal sitting around. Picked it up and painted the cover. Made it look alive again. You read the chapters written by others and wished so hard to revise them. Wished to change the story. But instead you grabbed a pen and wrote your own. Before long, you decided you didn’t want to stop writing, and I didn’t want you too. The words you filled me with changed me. I’m not sure when exactly you came along, how you found me, or how you fixed me. None the less, I am grateful. You are the only person I want writing in my pages now. And I want nothing more for you to continue to write in them, until there are none left.

[quiveringmazes]

I would really like to contribute, but I'm nervous about it. Is there anyway you can make anonymous submission available?

It would be awesome if you submitted something! Please visit http://quiveringmazes.tumblr.com/submit after logging out of your Tumblr account to access a page that will get rid of any link to your URL. Type “anonymous” in the name field on the submission form. You could use a nickname instead, too! Include an anonymous email address as well, since it is a required field. It’s a little bit of a hassle, but it will get you an anonymous submission :)

Thank you!Ashley 

[quiveringmazes]

Never.

All this time I believed that you weren't the one that I truly loved. I sit here today, on the bed that we used to cuddle in and I realize I lied to myself and everyone around me. You're the only one I ever truly loved, the other person was just showing me something that I missed. I remember sitting in the same spots that we used to sit at talking and smoking cigarettes. I remember sitting there alone thinking you were dead and how broken that made me feel inside. I remember how you would pop back up out of nowhere and my whole world would fall back into place. I would be smiling again and I wouldn't be faking. Truth is, I've never stopped loving you.

(You proved to me that I can love someone, no matter what chaos forced it apart.)

[whisper-through-the-chrysalis]

Another Poem About Summer

[quiveringmazes]

we-pray-as-wolves:

     I always found it unusual that some of my favorite poets took joy in writing about Southern summer evenings. I’ve experienced them since I was a child, and I never found anything to be very romantic about them. I never had a summer fling, the bugs are noisy—and who is  to say those are cicadas chirping?—and overall it’s just so damn hot. I came outside to write just now, but the temperature started getting to me. I picked up the cord to a fan, prepared to plug it in, but instead dropped it when I discovered a tiny spiny orb-weaver spider on it. It scuttled quickly away as I returned just as quickly to the patio furniture. Despite never having collard greens and disliking Publix’s sweet tea, despite being as pale as the light that tans me from the computer screen I spend most of my summer vacation in front of, I’m thinking to myself:maybe this ain’t half bad.      I mean, the way the sun has settled into the woods makes it look like my neighbor’s house is radioactive! That “family movie night” hue gradients upwards into a matte Phthalo blue, encasing…what I once thought was a star, but has since disappeared with the roar of turbines and the shuffling of tiny peanut bags…and a smiling sliver of the moon.       For dinner, my family had chicken pot pies. The different verdure shades spread across lima beans, peas, and of course green beans, accented bright orange carrots. I bring up the orange because it’s what this state is known for, aside from beaches, lightning, and CSI: Miami. We run out of orange juice a lot here, but it never seems to be a part of a balanced breakfast. Mostly because I don’t eat breakfast. I wake up at noon after staying up until about four in the morning and start my day off right with a well-balanced lunch.      I guess all I’m saying is summer never appealed to me in the way that crippling mosquito bites, swimming in alligator-infested lakes, and surviving blistering sunburns always seem to for other writers. But, right here, right now, hearing the casual skipping-record of cicadas (if that’s what they actually are) and feeling the dull breeze roll across slightly-salted skin, anticipating the return of air conditioning, I guess you can say I finally feel it.

[quiveringmazes]

the water wasn't cold enough to make my body numb. it wasn't cold enough to make you go away. it's never going to be cold enough even if i added a million ice cubes. that's such a scary thought, you're never going to go away completely and i'm never going to find something to make me numb enough to forget.

-k.g.

[whisper-through-the-chrysalis]

"You have so many words wrapped up around your soul and I want every single one."

(x)

[quiveringmazes]

I have your jacket wrapped around me but I can't stop wishing that the warmth sinking into me was from your skin.

-k.g.