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The Blue Rams: Official E-book release

Hey guys, the preorders on the e-copy of my book start, TONIGHT. It’s only 5.99 over on Amazon -- I’ll also be running a deal on Black Friday! This is the project I’ve been working on for the past year, this is that story. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077J6WFBR/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1510897071&sr=8-1&keywords=alexander+j.+bones

If you’re not an e-book reader(such as myself), I will be releasing a physical copy sometime in December -- fingers crossed everything works out. Thank you all so much for the support, and making my first year on tumblr amazing.

PEACE SOUP

We are sonnets etched in ice, divine but also fleeting. I would melt myself, my all to keep this from repeating.

s.z (A Suitor’s Gaze)

The weight of the war i fought crushed me.

#spilled ink #excerpts from my writing #writers #sad poetry #self destruction #feelings #sad love poetry #social anxiety #sad love quotes #you broke me poetry #excerpt from a book i might write #words #spilled idea #spilled quotes #spilled truth #spilled feelings

Missing him hurts because there is literally nothing I could ever do that would bring him back. And even if I could, it’d never be the same.

#love quotes #sad poetry #self destruction #feelings #sad love quotes #sad love poetry #you broke me poetry #writers #writing #excerpts from my writing #excerpt from a story i'll never write #excerpt from a book i might write #writers blog #free write #spilled quotes #spilled idea #spilled ink

This.

It is the culmination of a bewildered soul’s desperate attempts to survive.

Just a memory, a distant day dream of misguided fools full of longing and spite.

So much so they are easily deluded by illusion.

Too slow to see the gentle gestures of a woman submerged in her discretions.

Suffocating, choking on the fluid of existence.

It’s why I marvel at the assured pace of the passerby.

How easily they breathe.

Why was I not instructed in the art of the living?

Taught how to construct fulfillment from the mess we are given.

Left without a tutor I became a student in the art of the appeal.

More concerned with appearances than realities.

A world of jarring juxtaposition.

Well enough when left alone.

You can wander a maze made of glass and thorns when you are privy to the paths.

How foolish I was to journey with companion in tow, now bruised and bloodied by the passage.

It was this vision of mangled flesh that compelled me to write of this creature I have become.

Made desperate by a realization.

That I too will be maimed if I do not look to see the course ahead.

And somehow I still grasp your hand, feel the sweat of your palm.

Gripping the shaking hands of a trembling soul.

I am immobilized by fear.

Tormented by the questions that haunt me.

How could you ever find exit in my absence?

How can I move forward in your presence?

- s.z (Same Poem Different Name)

The heavens sang praises of her courage.

She had been hopelessly lost, led completely astray.

But somehow she found her way back to them.

Like separated lovers, they intertwined, and the clouds parted to make way.

It felt as if no time had passed at all.

The stars had finally guided her home.

In the depth of her despair she had looked to the night sky for answers.

The stars shone through the darkness.

Like night lights for the fearful.

For those among us still plagued by our youthful plights.

She realized she was no longer afraid.

The shade had given way to shimmer and became a mirror to her soul.

A lens through which she could observe her quandary.

Through this mirror she revealed a reflection of depth.

She had seen her cosmic light.

For that’s how we find internal truth and become infinite.

It was in that moment she knew she had seen the true face of god.

When she had gazed into eyes her own.

For who else would keep her in their charge?

Who else could know her mind?

She just hoped she would keep guiding her if she were so inclined.

-s.z (We Forge Our Own Paths)

Some are meant to make art with others.

Some are meant to make art alone.

I do not know why this is or why the space has grown.

An intangible distance, the roads have long since crossed.

A path that’s unaffected by the beggar who is lost.

I’m sorry I cannot help you.

I’m afraid I cannot stop.

For we have long been climbing, and we’re headed for the drop.

You cannot see the cliffside, you don’t see the rocks below.

But it’s not my job to teach you what you do not wish to know.

You can love many people, you can respect what they have brought.

But I refuse to be undone by the falsehoods you have wrought.

-s.z (Survival Comes First)

I love you guys. I’m sorry my anxiety and mental well being has been shit. I convinced myself I wasn’t a good writer and that I was incapable of writing poetry anymore. Can’t believe I let myself get to that point, and I’m sorry I haven’t been active. It seems so disrespectful considering how supportive of my poetry y’all have been. Just know that I’m sorry, and that I’m going to try to be better. I promise.