What Does this Woman Want

What do I want? Oh honey that's a loaded question.  But hear your loaded answer:  I want to be a woman that shakes shit up.  I want to change perception and bend what we think reality is.  I want to live a life that people think is out of my reach.  I want to create an empire, start a revolution and change the way the world works.  If there was ever a start to a New World Order, I want to be there.  I want people to say "That woman did everything people said she couldn't so and more."

Unrequited Nothings

Unrequited Nothings

My wandering soul

Circles round the universe

And comes home with stories of a land that's much too much like home.

The gentle breeze lingers through an open window

And there you lie with eyes like the sun and the moon.

My wandering heart

Circles round the globe to find

That love's like a suit

You can pick and choose to play the game

The music lingers over happy voices, 

Colours light the night sky

And there you stand, your world in your hands

My wandering mind

Comes home to find

A masterpiece a day

All the world's a game to you

Dancers pirouette on cue 

The backdrop is a perfect hue 

A whole stage made by you.

#latenightpoet / #earlymorningsocrates

Sometimes I lay awake at night and I ponder the way life is now.  The expectations we carry from generation to generation. Get married, go to college. Be this, do that.  I think if anything I've learned that expectations are blind spots.  If everything turned out how you wanted it, then there would be a whole lot of Disney stereotypes walking around.  Everyone wants to be a princess, but eventually princesses become queens.  They wear cute tiaras for a time, then responsibility comes and they whip out the crown so bedazzled with jewels to symbolise the weight of that crown could snap your princessey neck if you weren't careful.

The point is this: Life is what you want it to be. It's a gift made of everything you want it to be.  Dreams, hopes, fantasies.  Strange and wonderful, disgusting and maddening. You never know where it'll take you.

Night Terror

Right now I lay awake in my room.  A chilling thought takes over me.

Even I'm terrified of the person I could become in 5 years.  

It's a thought that leaves me shaking. 

The Tempest/Haunted/Stupid Boy

It's 2AM.  I should be sleeping.  I have work in 12 hours, but sleep alludes me as usual during the summer.

I feel raw.  My heart beats, but it's beating only moves desire around, not blood.  The Tempest.  

Stupid boy.  It's the truth.  I hate him in this moment. Why couldn't he just leave well alone? Kept his stupid poem to himself.  Now I feel jaded, tormented, tourtured.  Now I know those feelings are there.  His entrance begs the question I wish I could answer.  Stupid boy, and now I'm haunted by his face and his memory.  

Stupid boy, I wish I could forget you, but I'd have to forget me.