h3ls

[h3ls]

Emotional storm

She felt anchored

Longed to break free

He held fast

Through the storm

And once again

Her waters were calm

[h3ls]

Feels a bit better but still not right....

Love

How do you know you love someone?

Does your breath hold when they say your name? Does your spine long for their fingertips? Does the curve of your neck miss their whisper?

How do you know you love someone?

Does your breath sigh their name? Does a map of their spine exist on your fingertips? Does your whisper sit in the curve of their neck?

How do you know that you love someone?

[h3ls]

Still needs some work. Still bothers me. The line "does your whisper miss the curve of their neck" just doesn't sit right.

Love

How do you know you love someone?

Does your breath hold when they say your name? Does your spine long for their fingertips? Does your whisper miss the curve of their neck?

How do you know you love someone?

Does your breath sigh their name? Does a map of their spine exist on your fingertips? Does their whisper sit in the curve of your neck?

How do you know that you love someone?

[h3ls]

Broken?

Heartbreak is beautifully described by poets. Heartbreak is not beautiful. It’s ugly, it hurts, it burns, it bleeds, it scars, it cuts soul deep and never properly heals. Heartbreak is not beautiful. Heartbreak is souls silent death.

[h3ls]

First Kiss

From the moment I kissed him, I knew he was mine. His kiss ignited my soul, He knew and he was sorry, How beautiful to apologise, For the beginning of love.

[h3ls]

Heart break hill. The place where the dead come to rest in peace and the living come to mourn in pieces. Old and young buried here, family, friends visit habitual, all with their palpable grief. It's the most peaceful, tranquil place I can find. I'm drawn here, a crushing need to be near her even though she is no longer here. And when I get here I cannot leave, I cannot leave her forever alone.

[h3ls]

I got stuck on this. Couldn't get past it. Couldn't stop reading it and feeling the pain.

[h3ls]

I got stuck on this. Couldn't get past it. Couldn't stop reading it and feeling the pain.

[h3ls]

Monsters

Monsters aren't always outside your door. Sometimes they are already inside. Lurking. Waiting for their moment. Living in the dark is nothing. Hiding in the dark is different. Don't ever think you have to save me. You'll never have to save me. I've already saved myself a million times.

[h3ls]

The wind and you

Your smile, along the rays of the sun. Your laughter, in the sweetest birdsong. Your salted tears, falling amongst the rain. All tangled with the wind, your sweet soul is gone.

[h3ls]

take words and art and love and dreams. and water yourself daily.

Della Hicks-Wilson (via dellahickswilson)

[h3ls]

[h3ls]

I miss this old feller.

It’s a dog’s life, I hear you say. But I’ve been doing this all day. It’s not as easy as it seems. Laying here dreaming dreams. It’s not as easy as it looks. You cannot learn it from your books. So rest your pen and rest your eyes. Lets lay here and dream of skies. Dream of sun and summer sighs. Dream of laughter in children’s eyes. Dream of rivers and gentle streams. Together we’ll be dreaming dreams.

[h3ls]

Still absolutely crushingly lovely.

OCD by Neil Hilborn The first time I saw her, Everything in my head went quiet. All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared. When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don’t really get quiet moments. Even in bed, I’m thinking: Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips. Or the eyelash on her cheek— the eyelash on her cheek— the eyelash on her cheek. I knew I had to talk to her. I asked her out six times in thirty seconds. She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going. On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or talking to her. But she loved it. She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times at different times of the day. She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk. When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely lock the door eighteen times. I’d always watch her mouth when she talked— when she talked— when she talked— when she talked; when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges. At night, she’d lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off. She’d close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her. But then. She said I was taking up too much of her time. That I couldn’t kiss her goodbye so much because I was making her late for work. When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line. When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking. And last week she started sleeping at her mother’s place. She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her; that this whole thing was a mistake, but. How can it be a mistake that I don’t have to wash my hands after I touch her? Love is not a mistake, and it’s killing me that she can run away from this and I just can’t. I can’t go out and find someone new because I always think of her. Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin. I see myself crushed by an endless succession of cars. And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on. I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel. How she turns shower knobs like she opening a safe. How she blows out candles— blows out candles— blows out candles— blows out candles— blows out— Now, I just think about who else is kissing her. I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once - He doesn’t care if it’s perfect! I want her back so bad, I leave the door unlocked. I leave the lights on.

[h3ls]

The scars of life.

It’s my own body, I’ll scar it how I like. It’s my own soul, I’ll scar it with my life.

I’ll scar my body with laughter, Etched upon my face. I’ll scar my soul with tears, Until laughter takes their place.

I’ll scar my body with reminders, Of the life I have served. I’ll scar my soul with memories, More beautiful than words.

It’s my own body, Ill scar it how I like. It’s my own soul, I’ll scar it with my life.

[h3ls]

The poem of you

If I were to write you in a poem. I’d compare you to the snow, icy and bitter, melting at my touch. I’d compare you to the hurricane, wild and destructive, a gentle breeze through my hair. I’d compare you to the sun, blistering and harsh, tenderly warming my my skin. I’d compare you to the rain, cold and dark, gently washing away my sins. If I were to write you in a poem that is.

[h3ls]

Her

Would you know her if you saw her? You haven’t seen her in so long. Would you remember her gait? The way she walks on air. Would you remember her hair? The way she sweeps it from her shoulders. Would you remember her smile? The way it lights a room. Would you remember her laugh? The way it tickles your ear. Would you recognise her soul? That was once twinned with your own.

Would you know her if you saw her?

You’ve been missing her so long.