Adjusting

I'm working up to the ultimate update post.

I've accumulated a few fears regarding who reads this.

But I know whoever remains here is trustworthy.

On another note, can anyone active make yourselves known? I'm trying to clean house... so many blogs I loved have gone inactive. I can only hope that it means they are all doing well and truly living as I have been.

There's no more sadness in my heart. Not that it's gone, but that it isn't the crushing emptiness that it once was. I'm here, breathing in ways I never thought that I would again. And if I leave again (though I dont plan to), know this:

I'm here.

I'm living.

I'm happy.

"I don't know if I will have the time to write anymore letters because I might be too busy trying to participate. So if this does end up being the last letter I just want you to know that I was in a bad place before I started high school and you helped me. Even if you didn't know what I was talking about or know someone who has gone through it, you made me not feel alone. Because I know there are people who say all these things don't happen. And there are people who forget what it's like to be 16 when they turn 17. I know these will all be stories someday. And our pictures will become old photographs. We'll all become somebody's mom or dad. But right now these moments are not stories. This is happening, I am here and I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you're not a sad story. You are alive, and you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you're listening to that song and that drive with the people you love most in this world. And in this moment I swear, we are infinite."

The air she breathes is
New,
Untouched.
Light rings true
From her every pore
The sunlight ebbs and
Flows.

Hush the voices,
They cannot reach you here.
Open eyes,

Bright

Seeking.

For once the answers
Are clear.
Absorb and
BE.

Living ends and
Life begins.

It is the cool glide of ink
That leads her-
Hand goes heart-ward
Breeding, kneading
The toughness from its flesh:
The beat is back.

It is him, the moon, cool pull
Dragging the blood through her veins.
The tide is crimson and
Thick, thicker than ocean.

The sorrow has ebbed,
the storm has stilled.
The stars are ageless
In his eyes
The sky is blue curls around
His fingers.

His voice flows in waves
The room leans in.
His words gently bend us
Trees in wind
Collide,
Fall.
The Earth is softer now.

This Song

Possess me.
Write me into the
Every sway of your body,
Every screaming pull of steel.
Leave me, longing,
For the highest notes you give
And the lowest bass of your heart.
Pounding, a pulse
The beat of us
Catapulting, falling
Through the dizziest haze
That our kisses could bring.
The building of us
Rings in our ears and
Calloused fingers
Pulling never near
Enough.

Collage

Stained Glass Leaves
The world was constantly on fire. The trees burning with hot leaves that everybody sighed at. The evenings weren't quite cool yet, so after sunset and after her house and neighbors and the entire world went to sleep, she wandered out the door. Down the road in the darkness her feet carried her underneath the canopy of trees, her eyes, green like the like the summer at its end, took it in. There was no sun to illuminate the leaves, but she didn't mind. For the streetlights’ yellowed gaze hit the leaves which were thinning with age, and shone through them. Some people go to church to see stained glass, created meticulously and expensively, but here with no one looking, nature created stained glass all its own in one simple season.

Leaves Falling
The leaves fall. They turn in loops and swirls, sighing as they hit the ground, singing as they float on the breeze.

Frost
His eyes were bright blue. Some would call them sky-like but somehow, to her, they brought a memory of frost, cold and sparkling.

Smoke Breaths
It’s a slow drug against red lips
warm, longing.
On its exhale she can see it:
The desire
The future of it in her hand
against her lips
In her lungs
His kiss swirls on the night air

Tree Prisms
She walks, again. In day light this time. Somehow her steps have doubled. A train sounds, miles away. The chill of the air grazes the skin of her hand but her palm, locked to another palm, is warm. Her cheeks pinken. The sun shines brightly in the sky; in her eyes. Forest green stares into Blue frost. The sun hits the icicles and glares.

There it was again. The tell-tale buds on the end of branches. She knew spring would come, as each season does. Around her, shedding occurred. Coats fell from sweating shoulders, gloves slipped from hands. Fingers twined and untwined, hers included. In parks and on streets loves began and ended,
As years do,
As life does.

Feet on Fire

“To the secret fort!” Nikki said
And we ran out from the shelter
Of the weeping willow.
Our feet hit the ground,
Hot and burning
But we were wild and
Invincible!
Through trees and bushes
There was a clearing small enough
For two 6 year olds and a table,
Where we planned our adventures.

We lived off ripened strawberries
Her grandpa grew and we learned to fly
Off swings, shoes first,
To the ground.
Every day ended
Reluctantly.

We found a caterpillar
Called him our baby
But someone released him and
In the way only a child knows,
That meant the end of something.

Weeks went by.
One day a storm shot lightning into the willow tree
And it fell.
I can’t find any caterpillars
Or strawberries that the birds haven’t plucked.
I don’t fit into bushes anymore.

Both of us found new adventures,
New friends, and boys we would kiss.
Some days I think of sharing them with her.
But if we shared our stories
We wouldn’t be those same girls,
Fast as the wind, fire on our feet.
Our adventures would lose their glow.
So I keep those girls in a box
Tucked in to a bed of willow leaves
With strawberries for us to survive.

Update

Hello all!

Just thought I'd stop in and do some updating. Things have been very very crazy for the last few months. But I suppose what I'd really like to tell you is that I won an award at my college! I won first place, actually and $250. I got to read my poems at the ceremony and my amazing creative writing teaser was so proud of me. It was so amazing.
Anyhow, just thought I'd share that with you. If you would like to look at the winning poems they're on http://rougerivervreview.com/. Oh and my name on there is Elizabeth Roberts.
Be sure to look at the other works, they're lovely as well.

Xxx
Ever