The truth presented to you at my darkest hour, 

There are reasons we choose not to remember all of the good. It is because of the horror which once followed. We fear that once we start to remember how sweet those moments were, maybe it just may become a slippery slope. After all, we’ve spent these past few years validating our unadulterated hatred for one another… yet nothing but the utter opposite has and always will be the case. 

The fact stands that no one compares to us, who we used to be. But the darkness lies in the fact that those kids may very well still be alive somewhere deep inside of our souls… just dormant. What if we are the only counterparts who have the power to wake them up? Always searching for the next ONE, somehow they all fall short. The original seems to shine, the sequels are never quite up to par. 

Since you, there have been none. None to look at me the way you still do. None that care for me like you do. None to unconditionally love me like you do. 

You terrify me so, darling. You were my most precious downfall. And my one true _ _ _ _. 

Goodnight,

The One. 

P.S. There is a question that is a burden on my mind… is it still real love? Or just left over curiosity covered up by the security blanket of “the first _ _ _ _”? I’m not sure if I’m willing to find out, because a downfall like that… well I can’t bare it a second time.

Maybe some things are best left unsaid. 

P-R-O-M-I-S-E-S

mean N-O-T-H-I-N-G 

until P-R-O-V-E-N

to be D-U-R-A-B-L-E .

Because aren’t we all G-U-I-L-T-Y 

until P-R-O-V-E-N

I-N-N-O-C-E-N-T ?

I wish I still had just one photo left…

of who we used to be, compared to the lies we’ve become today. 

(one that the tears didn’t wash away)

I’d look at it and say what a tragedy…

she was radiant and he was a her knight. 

It’s too bad she had to die on that faithful night. 

.

Those kids in the photo,

we had matching yellow shirts on- an unplanned coincidence.

We carved the date into a tree, behind the bandstand…

fooled by the unattainable notion of forever.

She can’t say it anymore- forever, 

since her lips turned blue.

.

They died the day he stopped loving her.

She died on the 20th of December,

with each tear that happened to gently grace her cheek,

her unbroken stare held by the night sky

the stars watched the last breath leave her surrendering lungs.

.

Soon after the dawn met a new girl,

one he had never seen before.

She was shattered beyond recognition. 

Never to be fully healed again. 

(the evening he said that she wasn’t enough anymore-

that was the last time she was ever seen)

No milk carton could ever track her down,

a love like that annihilates the soul when it simply is no longer. 

Why is it that when I expose myself… well my true self through words no one wants to read. The cliff notes are no way to someone’s heart. If you’re willing to read what I’ve put before you, congratulations. But what I’m looking for is someone who wants to analyze the diction without instruction. 

Right now the ghosts are silent. Maybe they are so quiet because in this moment we are free: sitting in solitude, in front of the sea with just the company of the sand, wind, and sky. Maybe I can only hear the ghosts when we are caged- held captive within the walls. Or possibly I am a ghost to them as they are ghosts to me, the only moment we are all at rest is outside and warmly isolated by the sea. Maybe just maybe I am a ghost and they are real. What if now that I am content, I am at rest? There is also a certainty… that we are all ghosts.

April 27, 2012

My Dearest Soul,

            I know you are tormented. You seek darkness where there is light because you are troubled, sweet child. Always chasing the unknown desires. Hoping to stop hoping yet loving without passion. No one shall know your secret but me- I give you my word. Isn’t it glorious though? To see the unseen, to think the unthinkable; it is quite lovely.

            You are my companion each passing hour. It’s comical how I seem to want the best yet you long for so little. Simplicity is exactly what you thirst for; the quenching of such a thirst is divine. What the world views as alone, we treasure as a delicacy- a feast among famine.

            The sun on our back, the water is calm. The sea is a true confidante. She is so still yet deadly at heart. She sees us for who we really are, overwhelmingly lovely nevertheless calmly catastrophic. Alone is a fallacy, a term the others conjured up on some dank evening.

            But we can just be. All for one, one for none, one is all. No cage, no walls. The open sand and sky surrounding. The sea is our stage. She is so kind to you. When I come to the sea you and I meet again, my splendid soul. I am regretful I refused to listen at times; the thoughts are always so busy. But when we (three) come to the sea, the glory is ours. We are one again in this hour. Sweetheart, you are my true love. My passions and desires are here- at peace. I will no longer write to you, my beautiful soul for you are traversing this long journey ahead of us, together we’ll run.

Forever and Always,

Stephanie

P.S. Perhaps we are meant to be. 

April 27, 2012

Solitude.

To my dear future, please be filled with moments like this- silence. Content. Peace. Sand and waves. The bridge. Maybe this isn’t so bad. Sometimes the ghosts pipe down. Maybe my ghosts rest beside me, on this blanket upon the clay sand. Or maybe I’ve released them, even if they recede temporarily, this moment is mine. 

April 27, 2012