Every 7 years, the cells in your entire body will be destroyed and replaced with new cells. One day I will have a body you will have never touched.

I have a deep fear of being too much. That one day I will find my someone, and they will realize that I am a hurricane. That they will step back and be intimidated by my muchness.

She grew up on fairytales and the promise of adventure, she used to leap around every corner with a sword in one hand, a book in the other. As the days went on, and more breath was stolen from her lungs she turned away from the magic. Now she sits for hours, a cigarette in hand, laughing at the corner she once believed hid her destiny.

Lately, I want to spill everything. Spill all my thoughts on paper. Bleed through the pen that touches my journal. Release all the hurt and judgment that stays within my head, within my heart. Everything that clouds my judgement and creates stories that don’t help. Stories that don’t help make my dreams come true.

Tell her, that when the Sun rises I think of her, and when it sets I think of her, Tell her, that when the sea recedes  I think of her, and when it touches the shore I think of her, Tell her, that when she holds another hand I think of her, and when she lets it go I think of her, Tell her, that when someone adores me I think of her, and when they resent me I think of her, Tell her, that when a child laughs I think of her, and when he cries I think of her, Tell her, that when lovers meet I think of her, and when they depart I think of her, Tell her, that when I paint circles I think of her, and when I write poetry I think of her, Tell her, that when she thinks of me I think of her, and when she does not I think of her.

But if I could stop time so we stay together forever, I would even sell my soul.