#infinite_peach

[bottled-petrichor]

I have finally forgiven myself for how I hurt myself chasing you. For all my faults, for all my anger and victimhood. For all my cowardice and unwavering rightness. It made me blind to how much damage I wrought: especially on myself. I've finally forgiven myself for cutting myself and blaming it all on you. I hope someday to have your forgiveness too.

Oh, William

DMCs over feelings- GROSS!

[bottled-petrichor]

I wanted to be those poetic types of girls; the ones who exhale beauty laced with Arabian spices and Peruvian color. I wanted to walk on waters, deep. Where every other dim soul drowned but where my faith carried me above the sea of mundane and I never got swept in the waters; kept under the surface from the lung-expanding, incomparable sweetness of a breath of truth. I feigned intelligence and sophistication but my undisguiseable slump and awkward social skills were weights shackled to my ankles. So to sink or swim; I decided to float. Never breaking the surface, but never grazing the deep. the fence is a comfortable place to be until it isn’t. The waters didn’t keep me under the surface; they dragged me into the eyes of a boy who’d played deception’s tune so well, he was Her firstborn son. He taught me to dance to the melody and the surface seemed farther and farther away- not like I noticed. Until the day I felt I’d missed my father’s tune. The hollow notes of lies and webs began to ring in my ears and echo in my hollow heart. Oh how had I misplaced it? Where? When? And I looked up to the lovely boy, and he held it in his hands. He’d played with it, and danced with it ever since I’d ripped it out it’s socket and thrust it into his hands. But toys get old and boring and Mummy needed a new distraction so he let it go. He let it float “To God knows where” because he’d familiarized himself with my awkward dance far too well and couldn’t be bothered to test the limitless bounds of my lack of rhythm any further. He left with an elegant bow. A Prince had to know how to slip the glass shoe on as well as how to slip the lace off. So then came the tears and the questions and the shame, and the lace couldn’t be stitched back together no matter how hard I tried, and the lack of warmth in my chest that I had grown so accustomed to began to throb and up I went. And broke the surface and took a breath of the cold and gut-wrenching reality; he was never there for me, he was there for what I could do for him. that’s all. But Daddy never let His little girl struggle, with the waves breaking on her soul: He lifted her up. And so she walked on waters deep where every other dim soul drowned but where His love carried me above the sea of mundane and I never got swept in the waters. Didn’t need to be one of the poetic types after all; I exhaled wholeness laced with Peppermint tea and Kenyan color and I, in my bare feet didn’t need to walk on those waters. See; my purpose for myself had been so limited to what I had seen others do and get applauded for doing; but I wasn’t Peter, and my mission wasn’t to defy physics; it was to flout the norm- to fly. and fly I did.

How to; -by someone who didn’t know How.

[bottled-petrichor]

I am sinking. Fast. In Everything I've shut out all these months. In all the sad and hurt and angry moments You all caused. I am sinking in confusing and a bluish darkness that won't go away. And I'm smiling through it. When I get to the bottom; I'll push myself back up. Everything beautiful is found at the bottom of something; right?

Post-Enzo

[bottled-petrichor]

Of all the boys I ever had a crush on; I do not know what made him different. Actually- I do- He marveled at me. My small habits, my sarcastic responses, my foolishness, my views. He looked at me and He didn't see right through me. My powers of social awkwardness and perfected invisibility didn't seem to work on him. He liked me, I thought. And he said as much. One day: after having awkward teenage sex with me - the inexperienced virgin- and He- somewhat of a Barnacle*Boy-, he said He LIKED me. Past tense, then his feelings faded but the lust, emboldened by my encouragement, and my feelings; encouraged by his sexual advances made for the perfect Naive-Girl-Meets-World  Heartbreak. And I never forgave him for that. For saying he once had feelings for me and not explaining what element of me; my small habits, my sarcastic responses, my foolishness, my views- what took them away.

College: The Naive, Introvert, Church-Girl  F*ck-ups and Other Stories.

[bottled-petrichor]

Come dance with me, awkwardly, terribly, foolishly. Come read with me, sip my Peach tea and say it needs more sugar, mock my hippie ways and love my African roots. Watch me smile at some childhood memory or a pun my best-friend told me a year ago. Come wrap your love around me, entertain my shenanigans. Encourage my crazy thought trips and say my sticky note doodles are cute. Tug at my short strings and laugh at the mild Dyscalculia that cripples my ability to read watches. Say You'll wait with me and that You uphold my integrity and wish to not. Be here.

Invisible Ink

[bottled-petrichor]

I looked into your eyes and saw all the lust in the world and a yawning emptiness underneath. And I thought that under all that must be love; maybe not for me, but for something, someone. And that is why I forgave you, and me.

invisible Ink.

[bottled-petrichor]

I didn't break my heart; I just ripped it from its hinges, thrust it into his hands; watched as he thrust it into his condom drawer.

Invisible Ink 

[bottled-petrichor]

And he looked at me in a way that stopped my heart and amplified the silence in my brain and  weakened my conscience. The devil didn't look through me, he looked through all of them and found me. And that was when I understood how he'd fallen

midnight-ecclecticism