the feast.


Image from
Image from

I don’t desire the buttoned down business bravado at 2:00 PM.

I crave the crawling creature that crumbles at 2:00 AM.

I don’t long for eternal strolls in the sunshine of spotless minds like other girls.

I pray for a slow dance with the devil as we engulf these tired hearts in flames.

Drag me down to hell where you dwell in the darkness of your mind.

I lust for the imperfections – the markers of truth.

I yearn to trace the lines of your scars with my sketchbook fingertips.

I will sit with you at the forsaken table,

indulge on your insecurities.

I will take second helpings,

feast on your flaws.

To quench this insatiable thirst,

pour your past unto me.

I shall eat until I am full.

I shall drink until I am drunk.

And I shall love you still.

blood teeth.

Photo taken from
       Photo taken from

I am the beast, a wild wolf

Steel trap jaw and mighty paws

I refuse to be a carcass

Bleached bones among white stones

I starve protecting a pack of thieves

Stay, and die upon these fallen leaves

Kick dirt in the air, raise hair on the neck

Shred throats for mercy, they bleed out among the regret

I am the beast, a wild wolf

Piercing eyes – Sheep’s disguise

I refuse to be a carcass

Predator’s trick – Vulture’s toothpick

Twitch of the ear and the journey starts

You follow your head, abandon the heart

In solitude is the thrill of the fight

Ragged soul, you rage, hunt down the night

Paws pound the ground.

You escape,

escape without a sound.

Teeth and fur,

nothing more to give.

A rabid will to live.

The blood runs red.

The blood runs red.

landfill heart.

Photo courtesy of

My words

Impenetrable to the unfeeling

Lay to waste

Within the landfill heart

Where things go to rot.

My hands

Empty to the nothing

Grip the rope

Bound to the landfill heart

Where things cling for life.

My ears

Hear nothing of sentiment

Lost in translation

To the landfill heart

Where things drown in silence.

My love

Sinks into the void

Leaves me senseless

Craving the landfill heart

Where things suspend in darkness.

My soul

Insists to choose reality

Abandons me here

Inside the landfill heart

Where things decompose in agony.

love too hard.

The-trouble-is-you-think-you (2)
photo credit unknown.

“I have time.”

We all think it.

I’ll start this tomorrow. I’ll be ready next month. I swear, this new year is the one where I will start that book, learn a new language, travel the world, move to a new place, chase my passion, fall in love, leave the job I hate, stop settling, work on myself, grab life by the balls.

You may be young, but that doesn’t guarantee an infinite amount of time to be alive. The truth is, your life can end at any moment. People don’t like to think about that.


Because it’s fucking scary.

But I think about it.

I think about it every god damn day.

When I think about time..

I think about dreams, about me, about love.

Love is really important to me. Not just the love of a person, but the love of places, things, passions, words, dreams, conversations, and most of all, life. I want the time to get lost in everything I love, including myself. And it all comes down to time. How much time do I have? I don’t really know. And I won’t find out until it’s too late. So, I want to live like I might not have a lot of time.

Just in case.

Dreams are what I want to follow. What are they? Where should they take me? Am I chasing them or running from them? Am I doing things that make me happy? If I am not, what the fuck am I doing then?

Wasting precious time?

Things happened. Okay, well, a lot of shit happened that halted, plateaued, and sometimes, outright crushed my plans. Some of these things were beyond my control, some things weren’t. But either way, I’m done using my time thinking about them. It’s time to let go. It’s time to move on. Things are going to keep happening that I can’t stop, but I can’t let that stop me.

I don’t want to die drowning, choking, sinking, suffocating.

When I go, I want to be full speed,

gunning it off a cliff face,

Thelma and Louise style.

Me, myself, and I. I want to use time to find the parts of me I don’t already know. I want time to bring light to the shady parts. I want time to fix the broken and time to spread my wings. I want time to love the dusty things on old, dark shelves. Am I letting go of the things that no longer serve me? Am I letting go of the people who damage me? Am I releasing the negative in order to grab a hold of the good things? Am I not feeling sorry for doing that? Am I changing what I can and accepting the things I can’t? Can I look in the mirror and tell myself…

you are everything you need,

you are whole all by yourself.

Most of all though, I think about time when it comes to love. This is the hardest one to face. You wonder how much was wasted, how much love was abused, how much love was taken for granted by someone who didn’t deserve it? I never intended to settle. And even though time waits for no one, I still don’t intend to settle. Because the kind of love I’m looking for, despite popular belief, I know, I fucking know, exists out there somewhere.

When I love, I tend to see all that you are, even when you don’t really see it yourself, and love each and every part of who and what makes you. The same goes for when I love a thing. I tend to immerse myself in it. I want to learn every angle, every piece of the story, the history, all there is to know so I can love it truly, completely.

It’s usually all in or all out with me. When I think about time, I never think about wasting it on the mediocre. There are so many things in this life that are mediocre. Love should never, not fucking ever, be one of them.

So I say what I feel, and then I say a little more. Most of the time I say too much. But I figure, will I regret telling someone I love them, someone I miss them, someone that I appreciate their existence, showing them how much I care?


I am never sorry for how much I love.

You shouldn’t be either.

And if some asshole takes it for granted or makes you feel bad for loving them too much or too hard, then they don’t deserve it.

Don’t ever water down the way you feel.

Love is an oil painting..

thick and messy,

taking time to dry into the masterpiece it’s meant to be.

Love is not a fucking watercolor.

I say, if you have a choice, always choose to love too much. Because when you let the right ones in, it’s worth every ounce of it.

Some might say I love too hard. But I hope someday I find someone who won’t be afraid of how much I love. They won’t want to stand on the shore with their toes in the sand; they’ll grab my hand and go diving into the deep with me.

There will be someone who can be honest, who can make me believe in trusting someone without a doubt. Someone who is consistent, someone who communicates, someone who follows through, someone who is faithful, someone who believes in keeping some things to ourselves, someone who appreciates the little things, someone who wants to talk about nothing at all, and then everything at once, staying kids at heart, staying up all night underneath a bedfort of sheets and pillows, someone who dances in the rain, someone who believes romance is something two people work at and work towards and work on every single day, to hold onto the love you find in stories.

But until then, there is one important lesson I’ve been learning this past year..

to fall in love with yourself while you wait patiently.

I want to love myself so that someone else can love the best and truest version of me. And in these moments of in-between, no matter how long they last, I will not be wasting any more time. That, I can assure you.

slow dance.
Image taken from Tumblr. Photography credit unknown.

you’ll set fire to this room,
with a slow dance made for two.
an ocean of faces in the crowd,
but all he sees is you.

you’re in the middle of an alleyway,
the summer rain starts pouring down.
he pulls you close, spins you ’round,
love more colossal than this town.

your favorite tune blares on the radio,
as you Sunday drive through the streets.
he pulls over, cranks the windows down,
just to sweep you off your feet.

it’s a song that plays in the distance,
it’s a song that plays in your mind,
it’s a song written gracefully in tandem,
with an end you hope never to find.

out to sea.


I must leave you here on the shore my love,

it is time, it is time.

Buried my toes in the sand for so long,

to make you mine, make you mine.

We all long for adventure,

don’t you see, don’t you see?

You promised everything awaits beyond the horizon,

drift with me, drift with me.

To never leave high ground,

it is but fear, only fear.

Losing sight of the shore,

it’s what keeps you here, stay right here.

There is wind in my sails love,

I must go, I must go.

Oh, the life that could have been,

you’ll never know, we’ll never know.

You’re becoming so small there my dear,

grain of sand, grain of sand.

I am set free by the salty breeze,

heart in my hand, in my hand.

wild animals.

We humans think we’re so much different than animals. That our intelligence sets us apart, puts us above them. But that’s a lie. We are no different. When you strip away all the capabilities that make us human, dilute us down to the bare bones, the feelings that hit the very core of us, we’re no fucking different than animals. No different.

We’re just as wild, just as unpredictable, just as untamable. Our nature is one of the same. When a human tries to tame a wild animal, they assume if they provide the animal with all they have to give in a nurturing environment, the need to react in a wild way dissipates, and the animal will acclimate to life as we see it. They will never turn on us.


There is always a chance they will turn.

No matter how much love you give, how much the animal is raised in our environment, how much their life strays away from the one they would have known in the wilderness, there is still that chance, every single day, that the wildness can override the structure. Humans are the same. We are a product of our environment, of our surroundings, of our past lives, and we’ve learned many lessons throughout our years in the art of protection and self preservation.

An animal has an instinct to react, regardless of how much love is shown to them. It’s second nature to resort to what has been ingrained in their psyche. Even when the world around them tries to show them otherwise, their go-to is the knee jerk reaction to people and situations – fight or flight.

Fight to survive.

Flee to survive.

We’re both left with choices..

the same choices,

animal or human.

Animals feel emotions as deeply as we do. They feel joy, sadness, grief, loss, rage, fear, pack mentality, love, rejection, power, they feel it all. Animals do not give a second thought to how they react. Time and situation matter not. A caregiver can provide all the tenderness and love to an animal as it would its own child, and with the snap of a finger, their jaws are ripping out your throat because you moved wrong, or you smelled weird, or the animal believed the situation was something different than what it actually was. Suddenly you are no longer a source of love.. you are a source of danger, and if they don’t react, you could be the death of them. And that will not do.

It’s always survival of the fittest.

They know the world is meant to cull the weak.


Humans act the very same way. We just hate admitting we’re more like animals than we think. The hunger, the lust, the primal drive, the desire to live, the desire to love, it runs deep within us. We can love so fierce, but oh can we run just as hard. The desire to protect one’s self, it outweighs many things, even at the expense of the ones who love us.

Instinct (per the interwebs definition) is defined as the inherent inclination of a living organism towards a particular complex behavior. The simplest example of an instinctive behavior is a fixed action pattern, in which a very short to medium length sequence of actions, without variation, are carried out in response to a clearly defined stimulus.

And it has been said that environment is an important factor in how innate behavior has evolved. A hypothesis of Michael McCollough, a positive psychologist, explains that environment plays a key role in human behaviors such as forgiveness and revenge. This hypothesis theorizes that various social environments cause either forgiveness or revenge to be prevalent.

Sometimes, there are instances where instinct and animal nature have been overridden by the love of something or someone else.

This is what I choose to believe in.

That in spite of the things ingrained in our very nature as human beings or animals, there is the possibility to override them. We cross the lines, we break the barriers, we achieve a level of trust and emotional security that wins over the fight or flight response. We can accept the love we receive. You no longer smell different, your moves are no longer considered threatening, you are safe. Safe to love, safe to trust, and safe to hold on to. We can quit baring our teeth, raising the fur on our backs, and narrowing our eyes.

This is a gamble.

There is no guarantee.

But that is what life is all about.

Putting your head into the mouth of the crocodile and praying it doesn’t choose to bite down.

We ask ourselves, can we love hard enough to override our natural instinct? To battle the fight or flight, to overcome the fear, the rage, to accept the thought of giving ourselves over to someone completely, trusting them with our own life, without wanting to massacre them before they have the chance to do the same to us?

If animals know one thing for sure, it is the ability the love unconditionally.

Their requirements are primal:

don’t hurt me,

don’t kill me,

how can we work best to survive this life together,

to always communicate,

to trust completely,

and to love each other enough that they would die for another,

or die protecting their children, their lifeblood.

Maybe we should be less like humans, and more like animals.

Life would be a fuck less complicated.