Love, Em.

A Collection of Scribbled Thoughts

[scribblingwithstardust]

night time indigos bring the ocean to my doorsteps.

my thoughts to rainstorms.

everything turns salt water. rising and falling.

i love you. i love you. i know that.

but you leave me hollow. shaking my heart to make noise. and the waves whisper.

is it enough? is it enough?

do you think it’s enough?

[scribblingwithstardust]

glow in the dark dinosaurs line my bedroom ceiling.

and they make me feel five.

if tomorrow you break my heart, at least i will have this.

i’ll dream you out of existence. into extinction.

everything is alright.

[scribblingwithstardust]

i like the sound of the color magenta.

it feels explosive. and impending. and bright.

like if i were a girl named Magenta, you’d see me coming for miles. a love story on train tracks.

something blooms and it aches.

[scribblingwithstardust]

it was one of those skies,

where the stars felt magnetic.

i wore the night like a dress,

and he said i looked pretty.

[scribblingwithstardust]

it was like seventeen autumns in slow-motion.

the radio plays only in black and white.

we sparkled, and snapped, and fizzled.

electric

then smoke.

i count our days like heartbeats.

wait, for the skip.

i will miss you when we’re gone.

[scribblingwithstardust]

I suppose I did know. I knew it innately, instinctively, heartbreakingly so. When you smile that smile, all dashingly devastating, I think how could I not? A boy like you, probably belonged to someone else. A girl like me, could only hope you might change your mind.

Love, Em // I Think You Should Run Away With Me.

[howpeterlostwendy]

After this autumn, when we’re done running on borrowed time. I’ll come visit you. I want to see what you’ve been up to. See where you’ve been sleeping. Wonder who you now dream about.

I always could picture you somewhere deep into the woods. Catching rain when it falls. Talking to the sky. Baking strawberry cakes in a little cabin oven.

And how are the cats? You say they don’t like you, but I’ve never seen anything so loyal. I think they more than love you. When I come, I’m sure they still will. And still do.

[howpeterlostwendy]

Wouldn’t it be nice, if you found me somewhere in a big city, living in a shoebox apartment, wearing an oatmeal colored sweater, carrying a paper bag of peaches, brown sugar, and a stick of butter.

A handful of flowers in my hair. The clock at 11:11. The radio playing my favorite cheesy pop songs.

You’d say I look different.

[howpeterlostwendy]

So it wasn’t forever. But I love that we had our moment. That spring-turned-summer you made me laugh a laugh, and my heart literally shivered. When you told me your stories, and I told you mine. I love that we got to be friends. I think you are the first person to really see me. A true glimpse of my sunny uncertain awkward soul, because with you it was just easy. I had the feeling. And I was right.

[howpeterlostwendy]

There’s a kind of rainforest moth that only lives for one moonlight. They get twenty-four hours to fall in love, and to fly, and to leave something good behind.

I don’t know why I find that so sad and so beautiful.

But after I heard that I wanted to call you. It was 2 a.m. and already daylight in another city. I forgot why I haven’t told you yet. I had a feeling you were sleeping. But I wanted to tell you now. Do you ever dream about me? The thought has ran through my mind on more than a few occasions. Should I wake you? Just incase I had slipped into your subconscious, I didn’t. I waited. And I haven’t yet.

But tomorrow. Maybe.

[howpeterlostwendy]

At night I time travel to our old conversations. In the dark I can still hear your voice, and the way you laugh, and I always like how you tell stories. A million tangents and then you forget what you were saying.

I’ll miss it.

One day, I worry we’ll be strangers. I won’t know your weekends or what you’re thinking. Just that you’ve gone somewhere. And won’t be back.

I can feel you fading like the edge of a watercolor painting. Like you’re swimming too far into the horizon. And I’m watching you go slow-motion.

Is this what dying is like?

I close my eyes. Remember when you said hello. When you told me your name.

[scribblingwithstardust]

I am so glad you are back! Was waiting for this day since forever :) big big fan of your scribbles <3 I hope you are doing well :)

Thank youuu! <3

[scribblingwithstardust]

did you remake this blog after deleting it? is there any way i can find your old poetry? i miss reading it :(!

Hi! I did remake this blog after deactivating it, and unfortunately all my old works are gone or just floating around on accounts who so nicely reblogged. Thank you for being a reader. 🌻

[howpeterlostwendy]

A thousand brilliant blue butterflies stormed the sky on the first of September. Each paper-like wing, a love letter. Beats fast, beats true.

And I told myself and everyone with sad eyes that I did not love you like that anymore.

I promise it was a lie.

But I never felt freer.

[howpeterlostwendy]

Say yes.

Say you’ll come. Say you’ll take my hand, some kind of slow dance, and walk the ocean floor with me. I’ll show you a lemonade summer, the most haunting of October’s, and how to bubble wrap the stars. The fish, the sharks, they’re all in on some kind of secret. And they won’t tell me without you. Or maybe I just want to know what you think.

Just say yes.

So you don’t know how to breathe underwater? It’s all the same really.

And I could show you.

[howpeterlostwendy]

I knew it wouldn’t always be like this. That it couldn’t. And today was just like any other ordinary day. Blue skies, same grocery store line, another hit 80s song on the radio. You know, the one I’ve heard over a million times and still can’t seem to remember.

But I was singing in my head. The words all wrong. And I looked over at you. And how nice it was. That today was ordinary. Just fine. With little worries and a salt and pepper breeze.

How right it was, that you were there, here, sitting next to me.

[scribblingwithstardust]

Yesterday I was thinking about your imaginary children. I pictured you getting married on the side of the highway, along this ring of trees with pink flowers for the summer. I thought about you walking home. The sun somehow both in front and behind you. Everything drenched golden. And I kept hoping you’d turn around. That you’d see me. Choose me. Leave it all. And go for something with gray skies. But lightning.