Dear Followers and Passerby,
I'm terribly sorry that I haven't been replying pormptly. I'd like to let you know that I save all comments in my email, and that I adore you all.
I'd also like to apologize that my blog has become something of a dreary place, as of late. I'm going through some small heartache right now. It isn't the first and won't be the last time this happens.
I feel like I don't thank you all often enough. Your reading and following is the biggest reason that I now produce two or three poems a day, which is incredible to me.
I think I'll finish with a few fun facts, because life should always include fun facts.
1. My blog used to be called the spoken and it had no followers and too too many loud colors and gadgets that I felt distracted from the writing.
2. My screen name is dervived from my initials EVR. I simply added an 'e' ^^
3. The blog title and url come from an acrosstic that I posted in October: Falling, Floating, Flying. I used Floating as the title because, socially, I float from place to place with no real destination.
4. 90% of the time I am blogging from my cell phone. I really don't go on on the computer much. This explains the lack of comments since Blogger mobile doesn't allow commenting.
5. I am chronically self concious. I look in the mirror and see very differently then what everyone else says I am. I also hide too much behind my verse. There are messages for you, friends, hidden in my posts.
6. This is probably the longest post I have written in my three months.
7. Lastly, the photostream at the bottom of the blog is of my neighbors prize roses. They are beautiful to photograph.
It's supposed to look like the viewer is shrinking.
Thank you all again, so so much,
Ever
xxx

Bottled ships that shatter on the shore.
I pin love letters to my arms
and wish to them
"become wings?"
If love could last beyond
would we staple ourselves
glued to snowglobes
like pain was all we'd ever know?

Or could we learn
to take a breath,
skip a beat,
and then let go.

Forgive me,
for not being what you'd expect,
for bending with the wind
for shattering against that wall.
I am interchangable,
a slide that fits in any projector,

I've perfected ultimate porcelean.

And please look past

what I did,

what I gave up,

and what I very well might give in to.

If you could, s'il vous plait, look past all that,

perhaps we could together

spend eternity in an endless spiral of syllables,

abuse alliteration,
and inspire each other for always.

If Only.

Blog List

I'm thinking of adding in a list of blogs that inspire me. If I follow you, you are likely to be on it :) Just wondering if you could comment to give me permissions.

All of a sudden you realize that you don't know, and the reasons all seem silly now. Hiding? What is that? How can you hide from what's always been by your side? And are you supposed to hide from anything? Was it all a lie? She shed on it a blood stained light, wanting only for us us to feel the same. Alone is scary, yes my friend, and her claws dug up from tainted ground. We wanted nothing more than to sink within her, is that so wrong? Is the thread really unraveling as quickly as she hums? In the dark of my mind, I swear it's true. But how do you deny what the mirror tells you?