Shedding Petals

var sc_project=8047883; var sc_invisible=1; var sc_security="01c75259"; Hello, I'm Shedding petals or Elianna. I write here. Feel free to read it all.

[sheddinpetals]

My precious daughter

#my precious daughter

Kayla Elianna Campbell was my amazing daughter.  She died last December 9th when she slipped or fell off a broken dock and drown in a pond not 5 minutes from our house. I’m broken hearted without her.  She was joy. She was happiness.  I want to honor her by putting her writings and photography into a book.  I hope I can do that.  I want to thank all of you who supported her and were her friends. We were working very hard on our end to help her.  I miss her more than she could ever understand. There’s lots of misinformation out here about her and about what happened. I’d like to tell her story when I’m able. Thanks for loving her. It’s all she ever wanted - to love and be loved - and we will love and miss her forever.

[sheddinpetals]

My Sunday afternoon.

[sheddinpetals]

I woke up to his voice. I'm actually glad I woke up.

[sheddinpetals]

Living is what will be my being until I can not breathe from the beauty of love that crushes my lungs and gives me gills to survive my attempts at drowning the deepest pains.

[demimundane]

“Imagine being trapped in a glass box,” Frank said. “You can see everyone outside, and people can see you, but they can’t touch you, and you can’t touch them, and you can’t really move around. You can see all these people moving about, unhindered, talking to each other, touching each other, but you can’t really take part in that. And you think sometimes, What if this were an empty glass box? Would anyone know the difference? ‘

Alexandra Robbins, The Overachievers (via phaethons)

[sheddinpetals]

After my friend had a "feeling", he sent me this.

[sheddinpetals]

[sheddinpetals]

I just realised that I think very differently than others. Interesting.

[sheddinpetals]

Can jealousy make someone lie to try to split two apart? Because those lies burn. They burn and blaze so deep.

[sheddinpetals]

I don't know how I made it through the Night, all I can remember Is screaming skin begging For wounds on the surface But all I could hear was Fight, fight, fight

[sheddinpetals]

I hate today. I probably won't be writing or be on at all much today, I'm goiing downtown Charlotte to take the lightrail. See you all.

[sheddinpetals]

Hey, You okay?

Alex calmed me down a bit so yeah I'm okay

[sheddinpetals]

Full blown panic attack Three Two one

[sheddinpetals]

Do you mostly get your inspiration for poetry from your day-to-day life and experiences?

No, I get it from my past. I like to let out my brokenness through words.

[sheddinpetals]

Happy birthday,rapist.

[sheddinpetals]

Halloween eyes

I remember innocence. I remember that I had it and that something beautiful like it was stolen from me by the time I learned to write in cursive. I loved my 's's, especially when I said "stop". They curved into the shallowest of lines that perfection even was unable to rewind. She must have found something sharp on my floor before I could hide my shaking hands and the knife of death in my throat. Another lie to another try and I was clean with the green of dope. But I remembered innocence, still, waiting for it to come back to me as his eyes were deeper than any well and his hands went to bolder places I could never tell. I struggled with my time beside the blanket and he was fine with the fact that I was not naked. I was too innocent. And yet, when I kissed her lips and stole her breath for that one moment I realized that I would beat the catastrophe of being in love with one. I learned that it was not the shape of eyes or the shape of skin the defines the form of the battles we have won. I loved three with green eyes and two with blue but I never was able to understand why I broke this being into two. Maybe it was because I lost my innocence.

[sheddinpetals]

There's an elephant on My chest and the water In the tub is rising red, It's good these hands are Numb or I would not feel Quite this dead. I know the gnawing in my Head is all I deserve With lies stamped on each wrist I soon will be heard, They'll remember me as the Weak one who loved too much, But all I wanted was for Life to rush and rush and rush From every little vein.